Dark Horse
by oksofia
Summary: Complete. A strange pandemic and a series of newspaper stories compel a reluctant Wonder Woman to turn to an old friend. Continuity: ten years post-"Destroyer." BM/WW
1. Chapter 1

**AN/Disclaimer**: I have no legal rights over any DC Comics content. Holla at Heph for beta-reading this story.

* * *

**I**

As the dusk settled, the buildings of downtown Dhaka were bathed in a pink hue that struggled towards violet. The heavy monsoon rainfall had subsided an hour ago, and the concrete roads were drenched with its scent. For a bustling metropolis it was oddly tranquil; the only sound was of palm trees rustling in the breeze caused by passing traffic. On the eighth floor balcony of an apartment overlooking the main road, Diana of Themyscira leaned back in a wicker chair as she surveyed the scene.

She had been in Dhaka for four months now, nearly concluding her semester-long tenure as a visiting lecturer at the University of Dhaka. Her students were bright and her colleagues were interesting, but what she loved most was the view from her balcony. Every evening after returning from campus, she sat on her wicker chair and rested her feet in the gaps between the balcony balusters – sometimes reflecting on the day's events, sometimes meditating, sometimes staring languidly. It had become a ritual that she would give up with great difficulty when she left the city.

Earlier that week, she had secured a visiting lectureship at the Collège de France for the upcoming academic year. It was a prestigious position, yet the prospect of Paris diminished in its allure as Diana sat in her balcony. She would miss her life in Dhaka – all of it.

For the last eight years, she had tirelessly thrown herself into the worlds of academia and "being" Wonder Woman. She wondered, though, if they were reason enough for her to resign from the Justice League as she had. As she traveled the globe from one university to the next, she realized just how isolated she had been from people and ideas throughout the years she had spent living in the Watchtower. Many times, it was disheartening – how could she, as one person, fight a global framework that perpetuated the conditions for the kinds of wrongdoings she confronted?

Those were the times when thoughts of the Justice League stole into her mind, and with great difficulty she would force them away. But once she had arrived in Dhaka, the view from her balcony reassured her that her resignation had not been without reason – she needed her autonomy, her selfhood. Ever since she had left Themyscira, she had worked with a team, worked for a cause. She needed to understand exactly what that cause was.

The apartment building she was living in now was part of the city skyline – a jumble of skyscrapers, billboards, and carefully planted trees. In close proximity there were government buildings overlooking a brilliantly blue river. And there were people everywhere – driving cars, strolling down the street, ducking in and out of steel-and-glass buildings. Here was humanity spilled out before her in all its glory. Had Gaia meant for it to be so achingly beautiful?

This was why Diana sat in her wicker chair, day after day, studying the same view.

But on this particular evening, the scene of life before her did not captivate her as it did normally. She was distracted by a heavy heart, although she had trouble understanding why she felt the way she did. Perhaps her apprehension of a drug cartel the night before had jarred her more than she had realized, or perhaps she was beginning to mourn her departure from Dhaka. Her restlessness was becoming intrusive enough to provoke her infamous anger, but when the call to prayer rang from a nearby mosque, she reflexively forced herself to relax and collect her thoughts; in doing so her eyes traveled to the entrance of the apartment complex.

It was a welcome sight. Even in the twilight, Zari's teeth, which he had displayed in a smile, shone brilliantly. When he saw that Diana had noticed him, he held up a bouquet of flowers and brandished it with a wink.

Diana was thankful that it was dark, because she was certain of the blush pinching at her cheeks. It was unseemly for a princess to blush so deeply. She nodded at him to indicate that she would come down to greet him, and with a gentle sigh she rose from her seat in the balcony and entered the apartment in search of her shoes. Zari's arrival was just what she needed at that moment.

As she left to meet him, she took one last look at Cat Grant's society column in the Daily Planet, which she subscribed to in order to stay in touch with Clark and Lois. She reread the headline she had been met with earlier that day without removing the paper from its position on the coffee table: "Billionaires Bruce Wayne and Talia Head Announce Engagement."

Her jaw clenched – slightly enough for her to be able to deny herself her reaction. She snatched the copy of the paper from the table and gracefully flung it into the trash.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**II**

After lingering over dinner, Diana walked out of the restaurant, her hand in Zari's. "You're looking exceptionally well tonight, Wonder Woman," he admired in a whisper, his mouth roguishly close to her ear. Diana's countenance remained set, but she wondered at his flattery – he seemed earnest enough. The corners of her mouth twitched.

This did not go unnoticed. "That's the first genuine smile I've seen from you all day," he said.

She didn't reply, but only drew the bouquet he had given her to her nose.

"Is everything all right?" he asked her. "You seemed upset today even in your class."

The flowers moved from her face and she raised an eyebrow. "_You_ attended Post-Modern Political Philosophy today?" she queried. She knew that he taught in Comparative Literature around the same time.

He shrugged. "Office hours were slow, so I decided to drop by."

"What did you think?" she wanted to know.

Zari scratched the back of his neck. "Your views on Derrida we'll discuss later." He took the bouquet from her and tucked it under his arm to hold her other hand. "Tonight we're going to divorce ourselves from work and have a little fun." This was invitation enough – Diana leaned forward and kissed him. Zari's smile was interrupted when they turned to see a parking lot security guard glancing at them. The guard tipped his hat at Diana and turned away with a grin.

"Let's go dancing," Zari suggested once he had recovered from his sheepishness. "I know this great club—"

"No," she said at once.

"Oh come now, Diana. I know you've partied with the best of them. I remember reading plenty about your exploits with that Kasnian queen several years back."

"Things with Audrey were different." Diana released his hands and slipped the bouquet from his grasp. "I was younger."

"You are an immortal princess, Diana, destined to remain forever youthful and fortunate. You were _made_ to enjoy every moment of your existence."

She sighed and slid an errant section of hair behind her ear. Some years ago when she had returned to Themyscira, Athena had commanded her to fight an insurgence spearheaded by Ares and Hebe. They had conceded in the end, but not before the vengeful goddess of youth had afforded Diana with a single streak of gray hair. Athena had decided that it was a mark of Diana's wisdom and ordered her to maintain it. And while Diana was far from vain, she was acutely aware of how differently she was treated upon showing this sign of age. Being seen in a club looking the way she did – with a man as handsome as Zari – would attract undesired attention.

By this time they had emerged from the restaurant parking lot onto the main street. He had taken her hand again and was pulling it playfully. "It'll be dark," he was convincing her, "No one will bother to—"

A loud scream rang from behind them, and the shy smile on Diana's face quickly turned into a steely frown. The flowers fell from her hands as she rushed to investigate the source with Zari at her heels. The woman who had screamed was lying in a heap in the middle of the parking lot. Even in the dim lighting, Diana could discern faintly blue coin-sized spots all along the woman's arms and legs. Her body was ice cold, and as far as Diana could tell, she was not breathing.

"Wonder Woman?" gasped the security guard, who had arrived at the scene. A handful of people had gathered around them by this time.

Zari kneeled down next to Diana. "Did anyone see what happened?" he questioned the curious onlookers. He was met with shrugs and shaking heads.

The loud rumble of an engine drowned out their scattered whispers of conversation – a motorcycle suddenly roared past them and onto the main road where it disappeared into the traffic. Diana knew instinctively to follow it. She released the woman from her grip; "Get her to a hospital," she ordered the guard, and swiftly flew out of the parking lot to trail the cycle.

It was Friday night and the roads were dense with vehicles, many of them motorcycles. But there was one bike that weaved in and out of traffic with no regard for speed limits; it was headed towards the outskirts of the city at an alarming pace. The cycle and its driver were pitch black, and once they left the brightly lit urban area, both would be rendered invisible.

But while the driver was fast, so was Diana. She soared above the traffic, narrowing the distance between her and her target with every passing second. When she was close enough, she rapidly dove in order to grab the driver when –

An eighteen-wheel truck suddenly slammed into her side. When it saw the descending Wonder Woman it had started to brake, but the impact of the hit was still enough to send Diana hurtling into a building several yards away. Without taking time to recover, she wrenched her back from the crumbling brick and rose into the air. The motorcycle in question was nowhere to be found. Furious, she yanked the shawl from around her neck and hurled it to the ground, then resumed her course of pursuit.

Her resilience was rewarded – only a few minutes of scanning led Diana to catch sight of the motorcycle again. The driver was speeding along the coast of the Buriganga River towards the largest port; ambling tourists scattered to dodge its reckless path. This time, Diana looked both ways before diving down to snatch up her target.

One of her hands seized the nape of the driver's jumpsuit, and the other one grabbed his motorcycle. Gripping both, Wonder Woman soared up into the air until the port was only a cluster of twinkling lights beneath them. She swung the driver to face her. He was wearing a full-face mask with white lenses over the eyes.

"Who are you?" she demanded of him, her tone colder than their surroundings. When he didn't reply, she shook him threateningly.

At this, he began to laugh, his voice rich with triumph. Diana's lips curled into a snarl. She then heard the distinctly muted _pop_ of blood vessels snapping, and within seconds the bright white lenses of his mask were stained with blood.

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	3. Chapter 3

**III**

Wonder Woman stood with her arms crossed in the Dhaka Metropolitan Police crime lab. She had dressed in nondescript black clothing for her date with Zari, so as she waited for the autopsy results to return, her sleeves were pulled back to reveal her gauntlets in order to identify herself.

Her stance remained unchanged when the DMP commissioner entered the room. The two had worked together often and so neither bothered with niceties.

"We haven't been able to identify the origin of that cycle," said the commissioner, "Any possible clues were removed long before it took to the streets."

Diana's eyes flickered. "Have you identified its driver yet?"

The commissioner shook her head. "Whatever he did to himself made him unrecognizable; we're running DNA tests now." When Diana had removed the driver's mask, she saw that his face was disfigured beyond recognition. The pathologist, one of Diana's friends, had concluded that the driver had implanted explosive catheters in his facial blood vessels that he had detonated once he had been apprehended. The technology was unprecedented.

"What about his victim?"

"Wonder Woman, we don't know that he attacked her. Her body shows no signs of it. It doesn't make any logical sense."

Diana decided not to argue at that moment, taking pity on the tired-looking commissioner, and instead reworded her question. "What about the woman found dead in the parking lot, then?"

The commissioner's tone was sharp despite her fatigued demeanor. "She's a corporate lawyer for a paper supply company. Her background check was spotless."

Unlike her body, Diana thought humorlessly.

Both were quiet for a moment. It was late – the commissioner rubbed her temples, but looked up when the door of the morgue opened to reveal the pathologist, Dr. Naik. She walked over to shake Diana's hand, and then turned to both to declare, "Nothing."

"You've been in there for hours!" cried the commissioner, more surprised than angry.

Dr. Naik shook her head. "I've never seen anything like it. No trauma to her internal organs; no sign of a point of entry – just those horrific contusions all across her body." She paused to shudder. "Really, I've never seen anything like it. But I do have a colleague who may have a chance of identifying the cause."

Upon hearing this, the commissioner was wide-eyed again. "Where's your colleague? Let's get him over here."

"Well," the doctor looked embarrassed, "I was going to prepare a sample. He's at Metropolis University…in the United States."

Diana calculated how long it would take her to change into her armor and summon the Invisible Jet. "I can be there in an hour."

--

Dr. Naik's colleague in Metropolis was Dr. Davies, a professor who held more degrees than he knew what to do with. After Wonder Woman delivered the tissue sample to his lab, she took to the skies without her jet. It was almost like old times – she and the Metropolis skyline had changed over the last eight years, but not so much that they were unrecognizable. She was met with another familiar sight when she saw an airbus plunge from the skies a few yards away from her.

Diana lunged forward to slow its descent, but in the next second a blue blur intercepted her path and then the plane paused in midair. It was Superman, of course, and he looked over to gape at her. "Diana?" he wondered aloud. He was taken aback enough that his grip on the plane faltered.

She gave him a sportive wave and gripped the plane's tail end. Carefully, the two straightened it to its proper position and began to descend; once they had set the plane on the ground, they turned to face each other.

"I was wondering when I'd run into you," Diana said cheekily.

But Superman crossed his arms. "You came to Metropolis and didn't tell me or Lois," he accused, raising an eyebrow. "You haven't been here in _years_."

"I was here on pressing matters. I was just returning to Dhaka."

"Can you at least stay for dinner?" he asked.

--

As Diana globe-hopped over the last several years, she made sure to always invite Lois and Clark to her home du jour. Many times, they accepted her invitations, but when they offered to reciprocate, they were politely refused with some irritatingly tactful answer. Understandably, then, Diana's unannounced presence in Metropolis was nothing less than a thunderclap.

It was for this reason that they took her reason for coming to their city very seriously. "You think that the guy in black caused those blue spots, and that he was running away from the scene of the crime when you caught him?" Lois asked Diana. The three were gathered in Lois and Clark's living room for after-dinner coffee.

"I don't know, but I strongly suspect that that woman's death is connected to the man in black."

Clark listened to this thoughtfully, and then added, "Almost the same thing happened in Metropolis yesterday. The Planet reported that they found a contractor dead outside of his house with the same blue spots all over his body that you described. But no one else was found at the scene."

This was unexpected news, and as her connections in Metropolis were limited now that she was no longer in the Justice League, she entreated Clark to stay mindful of any similar incidents and to somehow involve Dr. Davies in the investigation. She had said all there was to say on the subject, and they moved on to other topics of discussion.

"How's that Dhakan dreamboat of yours?" Lois inquired slyly. Diana hadn't told them about her budding relationship, but needless to say, Wonder Woman's love life was worth a mention in the tabloids.

Clark sensed some warmth emanate from her cheeks. "She's very taken with him," he reported to his wife, causing Diana to now blush visibly despite her expressionless face.

Upon seeing that she wouldn't say anything further, Lois shook her head. "Honestly, Wonder Woman, sometimes you're the girl version of Batman. Speaking of whom, did you hear the news?"

Diana resisted the inexplicable urge to retort, and instead answered in an even voice, "I read about his engagement, if that's what you mean." Her face hardly mirrored the excitement on her friends'.

Lois took this to mean that she was not convinced. "It's true, I assure you. The rock Bruce gave her is the size of Gibraltar. Clark saw it." She nudged him. "Tell Diana, Clark."

Clark, who had his suspicions about Diana's past near-relationship with Bruce, only agreed meekly. "It's a nice ring."

"'Nice' is an understatement, it's—"

"What sort of a person is Talia Head?" interrupted Diana. What she knew was not favorable. She knew that Talia's father had fallen to his doom before her arrival in Man's World, and that neither Superman nor Batman had deemed it necessary to attempt to save him. She thought that Talia had befallen the same fate, but evidently she had been mistaken.

Naturally, Lois was unfazed by the interruption. "The first time we met she snuck into my apartment, drugged me, impersonated me, and kidnapped Clark while he was Superman," she reflected, "But really, she's a lovely person. She was just going through a stage nearly twenty years ago."

Diana was unable to keep from sneering as she listened to Lois. "In short, she's a criminal," she summarized. She had no reason to be angry, she reminded herself. Bruce was a grown man with an extraordinary sense of judgment who was capable of making intelligent decisions. And even if she questioned this particular decision, it was irrelevant to her. They hadn't said a word to each other in the last ten years.

"Bruce is confident that she can be trusted now that Ra's is gone," said Clark gently, "and I think that he has always" – he hesitated as if what he was about to say was unpleasant but necessary – "…loved her. If Bruce trusts her, that's good enough for me." He looked at Diana firmly, silently challenging her to object.

She said nothing, as she had no basis for objecting to Talia other than the latter's questionable past – but she hardly shared Clark's unwavering faith in Bruce. For the sake of her friends, she attempted to be pleasant for the rest of the evening. Yet as she left for Dhaka later that night, she left with the same heavy heart that she had struggled with only the day before.

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**AN: **Lois is referring to her encounter with Talia in the STAS episode "Demon Reborn." Also, the following dash is just for this story's beta reader, Hephaestus01: –


	4. Chapter 4

**IV**

There had been another death from the strange blue contusions in the last week, this one in Brazil. Through Clark's connections, Diana had learned that no one was found at the scene of that death, either. The black-clad man she had apprehended in Dhaka was the only evidence she had of these deaths being the result of premeditated attacks and not pure coincidence.

However, he had not yet been identified. The DMP was swamped with the victims from a recent series of fatal shootings, and identifying the black-clad driver was made a low priority. Wonder Woman had requested to take the body to another lab, but the commissioner, owing to protocol, had refused her. That meeting had not ended well.

It seemed to her that she was the only one who was attempting to draw a connection between the three isolated instances of the deaths. She had told Dr. Davies to stay mindful of any possible parallels, but she had her own suspicions, which she talked over with Zari in her office one afternoon.

"Someone must be orchestrating this," she told him as she leaned back in her office chair. He was sitting diagonally from her on her desk. "The occupations of the people being murdered, their locations, their ages – something has to link them together. And you saw that driver rush away from the restaurant like he was on a mission from Hades."

"You think it could be magic?" Zari leaned forward to await her answer.

"I haven't ruled out the possibility. I just need to know what those contusions are. There is also—" she stopped abruptly when she realized how inconsiderate she was being; she had talked about nothing else with Zari for days. To his credit, he bore her magnanimously. "I'm so sorry," she blushed, "I'm taking advantage of your willingness to listen to me."

At this, he broke into a smile. "I'm dating Wonder Woman," he shrugged, "A bit of crime-fighting is bound to sneak into our conversations. Besides, this is the most you've spoken in over a week. I hope you're all right."

His nonchalant concern was endearing; they both neared each other to share a kiss when a sharp rap on the door interrupted them. Dr. Naik marched into the room with a cell phone held in front of her. "Dr. Davies for you," she declared to Wonder Woman, before acknowledging Zari with a wave.

Diana's heart lurched forward. Here would finally be something useful. "Hello, Professor," she greeted, "This is Wonder Woman speaking. I hope you are doing well."

"Yes, thank you," breezed Dr. Davies, "Wonder Woman, I have reason to believe that the next outbreak of this…affliction…will occur tonight in Dresden."

Her heart raced. "Have you found a pattern in these occurrences?" she asked as politely as she could manage at the moment, "Professor, I need to know what it is at once." She had spent the last week attempting to find one herself.

"Wonder Woman, the information you require will make itself known in Dresden."

"…All right," she faltered, angry at his obtuseness. "Thank you."

But he had disconnected from the line, and Diana thrust the phone towards Dr. Naik. "You keep strange company," she accused.

"He's a busy man, Diana," Dr. Naik shrugged, "His brilliance never rests. He's currently occupied with a grant from the Wayne-Head Foundation; it's a very prestigious and time-consuming honor in the scientific community."

At the mention of 'Wayne-Head,' Diana almost snarled, but Zari put his hand on her shoulder. "He was wrong to be so short," he comforted her, "but he's burning the midnight oil on this investigation. It must be nearly two in the morning out in Metropolis."

"It's not his brevity that bothered me," frowned Diana as she collected herself, "It was his unwillingness to talk. All he said was that the next occurrence of these contusions was going to happen tonight in Dresden."

Zari looked at his watch. "Then you'd better get going."

She stood up at once, but then slowly returned to sitting, putting her hand on his. "I keep running out on you," she apologized, lacing her fingers through his. The inevitable blush that spread across her face every time they shared a tender moment resurfaced.

"Well, I suppose you'll have to make it up to me later," said Zari solemnly.

At this, she stood again, and gave him a kiss that was meant as a preview of things to come. It was interrupted when Dr. Naik cleared her throat, but Diana withdrew with a satisfied smile. The blush on Zari's darker skin wasn't quite so evident, but Diana knew him well enough to know that it was there.

As she left the university campus and flew towards Germany, she contacted Shayera on her comm. link, one of her only material remnants from her time in the Justice League. "Diana here. Davies says to be in Dresden tonight," she reported.

"Well that's vague," crackled Shayera's voice into Diana's ear.

"That's why I need you to patrol with me. You said three days ago that you wanted to help."

"I still do!" her friend protested. "Let me gather some of the Watchtower surveillance equipment and I'll teleport over once you're there."

"Sounds good. Diana out."

--

Diana met Shayera at Dresden's Loschwitz Bridge, where the latter handed her a homing device. "Mr. Terrific rigged these up," Shayera explained, "They can detect the sensor in those catheters that your motorcycle driver stuck in his face."

"Perfect," said Diana as she secured the device behind her tiara. "I'll cover the city south of the river, and you can take the north."

Shayera nodded and gazed at the flickering lights of traffic on the bridge reflecting in the Elbe. "Seems like a nice place," she said, "You been before?"

"I came to the opera here with Faraday once," Diana answered dismissively.

"I miss checking out Faraday's ass," Shayera sighed as casually as if she was commenting on the mildness of the weather.

But Diana was not in the mood to be sociable then and her face remained sullen. "Check in when you find something," she said shortly. Shayera grinned in response as her mace crackled with energy, and the two soared into the air in opposite directions.

Wonder Woman took a systematic approach to monitoring the city below her. Silently, she leapt from rooftop to rooftop, melting into the shadows to conceal herself from wary glances. Her eyes scanned the crowds as they milled around and she easily assessed the vulnerabilities of the spaces laid out below her. She had learned to patrol from the best, after all. Diana didn't think about Batman often and when she did, it was hardly favorable, but this was one recollection of him that was dispassionate but always imbued with gratitude.

For a nearly an hour she continued in this manner, sweeping Dresden district by district, her homing device noiseless, until Shayera's voice filled her ear. "Diana, I found another body."

"Where are you?" Diana demanded.

"By some statue of a golden horse, right by the river."

At once, Diana sped towards Shayera, her arms stretched out before her and fists curled in rage. A body had been found, but no attacker. Perhaps the homing devices were not precise enough, or perhaps – she hated even the thought – their monitoring of the city had been poorly executed. It was times like this that she missed the near-limitless resources of the League.

She arrived to find Shayera standing over a body sprawled on the ground, her arms crossed and her mace hanging from her belt. "You exaggerated your description of these marks," said Shayera flatly, "They're not like 'raised bullets of iced bruises' under his skin."

Diana landed next to the body and kneeled down to inspect it. "These aren't the marks I described to you," she said, "These look like they've been drawn on him with a blue marker." To confirm this, she wet he finger and ran it over one of the spots, which smudged it.

Anger flooded her senses – Wonder Woman did not like to be made a fool of. Shayera, out of respect and fear of her friend, turned away to gaze at the horizon. It was for this reason that neither one noticed when the body they stood next to raised its arms and pulled Shayera's mace from her belt.

With one clean swipe, the mace rammed into the back of the unsuspecting Wonder Woman's head, which sent her hurtling into Shayera. Both collided into the statue with a loud clang. Shayera was halfway unconscious and Diana was set firm between the statue's iron base and a tangle of Shayera's limbs and wings. An immediate escape would require her to snap one of her friend's wings – had it been one of her own bones, she wouldn't have hesitated to break it.

Instead,– through gritted teeth – she attempted to disentangle herself from Shayera as gingerly as she could, all the while watching with growing desperation as the man dropped the mace and began to run for the nearby woods. After several minutes of maneuvering her body, she finally broke free. Without stopping to check on her friend, she shot towards the woods, but in vain. It was too dark for her vision to be useful. The woods were dark and dense and the air was thick with the sound of rustling branches. She had lost him.

With a cry of frustration, Wonder Woman yanked the homing device from behind her tiara and snapped it in her fist; the resulting incomplete circuit stung her palm. She hurled what was left of it into the Elbe and then whipped around to face Shayera.

"Davies' tip was a hoax," she growled, "He's part of this conspiracy."

Slowly, Shayera was rising to her feet. "Either that, or else—"

Both women looked at each other, realization flickering across their faces.

"Watchtower, transport us to Metropolis, now!" Shayera ordered into her comm. link, the anxiety in her voice barely concealed. Seconds later, their forms coruscated and disappeared, leaving behind no evidence of their presence in Dresden other than a pronounced dent on the base of the statue.

* * *

**AN: **In some interview, Dwayne McDuffie mentioned that DCAU Thanagarians have organic wings, unlike their comic book counterparts. Rex Stewart (and Carter Hall too I think) have wings made of Nth metal, while Shayera's are the real deal.


	5. Chapter 5

**V**

**AN**: This chapter has a vital inferred reference to "Return of the Joker." It's more exciting if you've seen the movie, but not hard to understand if you haven't.

* * *

Dr. Davies was dead. Wonder Woman and Shayera had found him carelessly tossed against a wall in his ransacked office, his neck bruised to a shade of midnight blue and his head hanging grotesquely detached to his side. The whites of his eyes were showing and a lurid trickle of blood still dripped from one of his swollen ears onto his otherwise pristinely white lab coat. Whoever had murdered him had also stolen the tissue samples of the contusions in question, as well as any related data.

Shayera was currently meeting with Superman and the Metropolis SCU in order to assess the feasibility of Justice League involvement with the case. As Wonder Woman could offer nothing more than personal interest in the matter at hand, she had stayed behind in the Detroit apartment that Shayera shared with John.

"You've got quite a situation on your hands," reflected John after he heard her recount the day's events. "No one's going to want to touch the next tissue sample after what happened to your professor. And because it all seems so unconnected, no one's going to think that it's worth the risk."

Diana closed her eyes to alleviate her headache. It had been easy to ignore the impact of Shayera's mace against her skull in the heat of the moment, but now that she had a chance to rest, she felt it acutely – fortunately, the mace hadn't been charged. "Perhaps the Justice League will become involved," she suggested indifferently.

"…Perhaps," he agreed with some reluctance, "But they've expanded their operations beyond just Earth, so I don't know how interested they'll be in a handful of murders that can potentially be solved by the police. The League's changed a lot since you and I were in it." John had retired from both the League as well as the Green Lantern corps several years after Diana's own departure.

"But you agree that these murders are more than just coincidence?" Her eyes opened slowly as she appraised her companion.

"After tonight, yeah." He paused to think. "There's no magic involved?"

"None. Shayera checked – something with her mace." They sat together in silence, John clearly lost in thought and Diana rubbing the back of her head with her palm. Finally, John spoke.

"Your instinct is generally right. There's something big going on here, but most of the world won't realize it before it's too late. What you need is someone trustworthy with enough resources and know-how to help you crack the mystery. But it has to be someone who works with stealth, persistency, and has plenty of experience."

Diana dropped her hand to gaze at him suspiciously. She didn't like where this was headed.

"That's right," insisted John, "You need to ask Batman for help."

Despite the gravity of the situation, she couldn't suppress a disparaging laugh. "We haven't spoken in ten years," was her curt reply.

John looked as though he had expected her to say this. "With the exception of Clark, I don't think any of us have either," he admitted. "But Diana, if _you_ can't talk to Bruce, then who can?"

He was looking at her with an expression of both entreaty and pity. At once, she stood and crossed her arms. "I am retiring until Shayera returns," she declared.

"All right," conceded John, throwing up his hands.

--

Six of the seven founding members of the Justice League sat in their conference room, while the seventh member, Batman, flickered into view on the monitor. The mood in the room was fraught with unease. Batman rarely assembled them like this – they knew that he took a certain amount of pride in working alone.

"I'm resigning from the Justice League," Batman announced.

An audible gasp could be heard from everyone but J'onn and Wonder Woman.

He resumed. "I will continue to fund operations as I always have. But as of now, I forfeit all other involvement." And then the screen went blank.

Amid the flurry of protests and shouts that erupted, Diana and J'onn looked at each other silently. _He must have a good reason, but do you know what it is, _she telepathically asked him.

_I assumed that you would know_, J'onn replied.

She would give Bruce some time, she resolved. Resigning from the Justice League was a drastic measure – but despite his "part-time" standing, he had never failed them. And he had made it clear enough over the last several years that he respected _her_ in particular. He would eventually talk to her and in his own cryptic way give her some indication of whether or not he was all right.

But her confidence was shaken when several hours later Superman intercepted her as she returned from a case. "The Joker was just reported dead," he said quietly.

Her heart had dropped.

His arms were crossed as he surveyed their surroundings. Upon seeing that they were out of earshot, he dropped his shoulders slightly and furrowed his brow; it was just enough to transform him from a poised, celebrated hero into an anxious, uneasy friend. "I overheard it accidentally. Bruce was there when it happened."

"What are you insinuating?" she snapped. Being groundlessly angry with Clark was easier than the alternative.

At once, Clark was stern. "Diana, I'm the _last_ one who would ever think that he's a murderer. But his all-out quitting the League has something to do with the Joker's death. I'm not telling any of the others about this except for you." He regarded her glumly. "I just want to make sure that our visits to the Batcave don't overlap, or else he'll think of it as an ambush."

Diana didn't bother to hide her skepticism. "You think he'd want to see anyone at a time like this?"

"Batman never 'wants' to see anyone," he shrugged sadly, compassion nearly pouring in waves off of the slope of his shoulders, "but that's never stopped me." He left her standing in the corridor, mouth pursed and jaw grim.

She had her doubts about going to see Bruce. After their encounter with the Legion of Doom and Darkseid, she knew that his heart was in the League less and less; he was right when he said that he had been neglecting Gotham, although she suspected that her increasingly common absences from the Watchtower on diplomatic duties had something to do with his decision as well. The Joker's death must have served as a catalyst to remind him of his foremost duty to his city.

And not only that, but the last time she had seen Bruce they had shared a long, tender kiss. It had been pleasant, unexpected; they rarely translated their longstanding mutual attachment into anything physical. For this reason, Diana was almost certain that if they saw each other again, she would lose all feelings of wonderment towards him - they were particularly adept at infuriating each other, as each wanted to maintain an air of independence that any act of affection threatened to undermine. To compensate for the sweetness of the kiss, one of them was bound to be acerbic.

But for all her temper and pride, Diana was not unkind; she was driven by loyalty and goodwill, and so soon after she headed to the Batcave despite her trepidation.

The first thing she noticed upon arrival was that the cave was especially dank, and with some alarm she saw that the case that housed the Batclan's armor had been violently upended. On the floor, she detected a dried trail of blood leading from the Batmobile into the inner recesses of the cave. Her eyes followed the path, finally resting on the object of her visit.

There he was: vengeance, the night. Hunched over the console of his mainframe, his cowl carelessly tossed onto its keys. The monitor's screen was a disarmingly bright red that washed him in an ominous glow.

"Batman," she found herself saying. She had never seen him this way.

He didn't challenge her presence in his cave. Instead, he turned his head to look at her blankly. His eyes were bloodshot.

She nearly took a step back at this, but managed to stand resolutely. "What happened with the Joker?" she demanded, more confidently than she felt.

Clearly, he hadn't spoken in a long time as it took him some effort to find his voice. "Tim," he rasped, his throat visibly shaking with the sheer force of passion he was trying to parry.

Words escaped her. She only stared at him and managed to ask, "…Is he…?"

"Barely," Bruce grunted hoarsely, his jaw tightening as his mouth trembled – with what emotion, she couldn't place.

"Hera," she said softly.

She was livid at the Joker – yes – but the horror she felt for Bruce overshadowed any other thought. Slowly, she walked over to where he was standing, and tugged one of his hands from the console. Without protest, he lifted it, and she pulled off his gauntlet – his fingers were bruised. Carefully, she put her hand in his.

"Your perception of love as debilitating is right," she said somberly; he was plunged in guilt and self-loathing for allowing Tim into his world. "But it is also an enabler, Bruce," she said, trying to remind him that it was the same ability to love that drove him to be Batman

A pain sharper than any other stung her eyes and spilled out in the form of tears as she knew she was powerless to help him. He was so distant, and so alone, choices he made and that she respected him for. She chose her next words carefully. "I want you to know that I'll always be at the Watchtower" – if you need me, she forced herself not to add. She would never intrude on his autonomy, she wanted him to know. He could have as much time in solitude as he needed.

And while she wanted to do nothing more than to envelop him in her arms, she didn't. Bruce prized self-sufficiency, and at a time like this his regard for it would be especially acute. With great effort, she remained firm, exercising immeasurable control over every part of herself, except for her heart, which ached with sorrow.

He held onto her hand for a long time, staring at his own in hers. Then finally, he released his grip and turned to face the blank monitor once again.

It was the last time Diana would see him for ten years.

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

**VI**

That morning's papers had declared three more dead. Right after Diana encountered these reports, she was met with the Justice League's decision to abstain from the case.

"What happened to you?!" Diana cried at this news.

"Diana, it didn't seem like a grave enough threat for the League to get involved," Shayera explained patiently.

"You mean to say that because there is no being to fight into submission, the Justice League doesn't deem these killings worth their time?" Her eyes were ablaze.

"Our resources are spread thin. There's too much other stuff going on." And then she added slyly and perhaps unwisely, "Anyway, look who's talking."

Diana glared at her.

John's prediction had been accurate. No one was willing to analyze the resulting contusions after the brutal manner in which Professor Davies was murdered. Everyone, including law enforcement to Diana's disgust, was stiff with fear. She had contacted Interpol and even King Faraday to exercise their connections, but she was resigned to the possibility that they would be unable to do much. Faraday had, however, managed to procure a sample of the latest contusions for her.

She spent the day making calls and writing lectures, and finally when the outside world was engulfed in an inky black, she rose with a sigh. It was time to go to Gotham.

--

Tracking down Batman on patrol was nearly impossible, even for Wonder Woman. While she could have waited for him at the manor, the prospect made her uneasy, as she had rarely visited him there even when they were on speaking terms. And appearing unannounced in the Batcave was out of the question – she wanted to recruit him to her cause, not antagonize him.

The only other place that she was likely to encounter him was by the Batsignal. Hidden in the silhouette of an adjoining building, Diana waited on the roof of the Gotham Police Department Headquarters for some time until, as luck would have it, Jim Gordon and one of his officers emerged to light the signal.

"Slick's people aren't at his warehouse. That means they're at the docks, like the other snitch told us," the young officer reported.

"Send backup," said Gordon as he took a sip from his styrofoam cup.

"Backup?" the officer asked.

"Batman's already on it," replied the Commissioner, holding up two of the fingers that gripped his coffee in a greeting. The officer was confused by this gesture, but Diana's eyes scanned the horizon and caught a black flutter in the distance from the corner of her eye.

It had been years since she had seen that flutter – or felt the other kind of flutter it elicited – but unfazed, she noiselessly leapt from that rooftop onto another one. Bruce would know if he was being followed, so she decided on a more circuitous route to the docks. Shadow to shadow, she moved through the city, fighting a thrill of anticipation that was strangely savage.

--

She heard him before she saw him. He was in the middle of an interrogation. "Where's the real shipment?" grilled his voice; its familiarity made her wince. She glanced from behind the crate that hid her just in time to see the dockworker under question attack Batman with such force that the latter's landing snapped the plank under him.

Knowing that it would take Bruce some time to recover, Diana moved quickly. She unfastened her lasso and threw it around the unsuspecting dockworker, pulling it taut. "I suggest that you answer his question," she commanded in a steely voice.

The dockworker glared at her. "Wh—" he cried in pain, and the air was at once filled with the smell of searing flesh – "There was no shipment!" he rattled, this time in earnest. "These are all empty crates. Slick did this to put one over on Thorne. He took Thorne's money and ran."

She tugged just slightly on the rope, and the dockworker added, "To somewhere in Argentina. That's all I know!"

By this time Batman had recovered. He moved towards the worker and corded together his wrists, all the while with his back to Diana. She didn't notice this, as she had also looked away when she sensed him nearing. "The police are a few yards behind dock number twelve," he said; she realized with a start that this was directed to her. "Drop him off there while I take care of the rest."

It was when she remembered that Batman never asked for help that she understood he was willing to meet her at Dock 12 once he finished his investigation. She kept her eyes on the broken plank as he swept off, and when he was gone, she carried out his instructions and waited at the specified location.

Half an hour passed. When she heard the faint sound of a car driving away, she stood straighter, curling her hands into determined fists. But her gaze remained level, viewing with pronounced disinterest the mist created by the waves battering the wharves. It was from this haze that Batman emerged.

His stride was unchanged, at once fluid yet menacing, she noticed. The way his dark outline obscured the mist made him seem like some creature that had surfaced from the violet waters, as much a part of Gotham as a distinct entity.

Their eyes met after ten years.

"I need your help," she said coolly. The words wrestled themselves from her mouth and were suspended between them. Diana was a person of great fortitude and honor, but her sense of pride bordered on hubris. After the way they had left each other, she had told herself that she would be a fool to ever seek him out again – while she appeared calm, each word she spoke delivered a fresh blow to her already suffering dignity.

As was expected from Batman, he accepted Wonder Woman's presence without flinching. And predictably, he said nothing.

She continued. "Several people have died from a strange disease over the last week. I have reason to believe that these deaths are the result of a coordinated series of murders, but I don't have the resources to prove this. I've received empty promises from Interpol. Other law enforcement agencies and even the Justice League don't think that this is worth their time. They're dismissing the killings as merely coincidental."

They held each other's gaze without changing their expressions. Even in the distinctive darkness of Gotham, Diana could see that he was studying her, trying to make a decision. Finally, Batman rumbled, "Was Martin Davies working on this when he was murdered?"

At this, Diana drew her brows together. "Yes," she said sadly.

He paused, then turned his back to her. "Bring what you have to the cave."

She regarded the back of his head suspiciously. "It's not even four," she observed, "Are you done with patrol already?"

"Your lasso sped things up," he accused as he walked away.

"Yes, it tends to do that," she agreed, remembering just how satisfying it was to joke with an affectedly sullen Batman. Her pride convalescing, she followed him.

--

On a table in the cave, Batman picked up a microexplosive and inspected it closely.

"That was implanted near his locus ceruleus according to the pathology reports," Diana recounted about the motorcycle driver she had apprehended during her date in Dhaka. "It detonated before the ones in his face."

Batman quietly deposited the explosive into a scanner. Diana examined him with her arms crossed casually. Both of them had been very quiet, talking only when she had information to impart related to the case. When she had described the motorcycle driver's clothing, he had asked her to repeat her description, as if he didn't believe her the first time.

"The locus ceruleus is involved in determining experiences of consciousness," he explained, "The explosive was big enough to disrupt its function."

Diana nodded. She already knew this, but didn't protest. He was willing to clarify his reasoning to her, and if she interrupted him he might change his mind.

"Did you find a detonator?" he asked her.

"No," she answered.

"It could be physiological then," he reasoned. Turning in his chair, he began to press buttons on his console.

Diana took this time to inspect the Batcave. Precious little had changed since the last time she had been here. Only the mainframe had been updated and expanded, and telltale signs of the rest of the Batclan's presence – including the case that housed their armor – were missing from the cave. And curiously, just a few yards from Bruce's primary workspace was a leather armchair flanked by an ornamental fig tree.

Of course – Talia's corner of the cave.

Suddenly, Diana was impatient. "We know how he killed himself," she scoffed, "We should be trying to understand where another one like him is going to show up again."

He only looked at her, half frowning. "This is important," he said in a tone that made it clear that he knew why she needed his help.

Had he been anyone else, Diana would have had him against the wall by his neck in a split second. But he was right; she needed his help. And she was caught off guard…he was _Bruce _–Bruce had never spoken to her in this way. As she was deciding on a response, a woman's voice rang through the cave. When Bruce broke their eye contact almost defiantly upon hearing it, Diana knew that her audience with him was nearing an end for the night.

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

****

VII

"Beloved?"

The voice was heavy with intrigue and ardor, exquisitely mysterious but still maddeningly intimate. Diana watched in sordid disbelief as the man in front of her transformed from Batman into Bruce Wayne wearing a silly mask.

"Talia," he said softly as tender smile formed across his face.

Talia Head descended a staircase into the cave, the subdued tread of her footsteps mixing in with the sound of Bruce's even breathing. "You have returned so soon?" came her smooth voice.

Bruce stood and turned in Talia's direction, still smiling. At the same time, Diana took a furtive step back into one of the cave's many shadowy recesses. This did not hide her completely from sight, but she did so to acknowledge her superfluous presence. If Bruce noticed this, he said nothing. Instead, he said, "I'm not quite done for the night," to Talia.

And then, just as quietly as Talia had entered the cave, she appeared into view.

"Aha," she murmured – her ambiguous lilt made even this simple word seem melodic – "I knew it was too good to be true." She put her hand on Bruce's chest and stood on her toes to kiss him chastely; her engagement ring caught the illumination from a nearby light bulb and glinted brilliantly. The brief flashes of light it reflected pierced Diana's eyes, which had become accustomed to the dark.

Bruce returned the kiss with markedly greater enthusiasm, and Talia pulled back with an amused twinkle. "I don't want to distract you, beloved," she told him solemnly.

"Talia—" Bruce began as he inhaled, still smiling. He put his hand on her cheek as if he was entreating her not to leave him right then.

Diana, who was not as amused at this display of affection as she had imagined, decided that she had waited a polite amount of time for them to greet each other, and so she cleared her throat to remind Bruce of her presence. At once, Bruce's smile evaporated and he turned to her sternly, and Talia cocked her visible eyebrow in mild interest before Diana could raise her own.

It was quiet for a moment until Bruce said stiffly, "Talia, meet Wonder Woman."

Wonder Woman stepped out from the shadowy recess with her arms placed regally at her sides; for a fleeting instant, she saw Talia's visible eye widen.

Bruce continued. "Wonder Woman, this is Talia Head." He left it at that, but Talia let her left hand explain the rest as she used it to brush a lock of hair from her face, letting it linger to allow Diana a good look at her engagement ring. Both women exchanged polite, formal smiles.

"I'm afraid that I'm keeping Bruce from being relieved of his duties," said Diana, her inherent sense of decorum saving them from another passing silence, "He has agreed to assist me in an investigation."

"As long as he is occupied by noble pursuits," Talia conceded graciously.

The thinly disguised meaning of Talia's cursory remark did not escape Diana's notice. All concern for civility vanished, she managed a tenuous smile and replied, "You are right to be concerned. I've forgotten that even the Batman can falter in his judgment." It was more for Bruce's benefit than for Talia's, but both of them remained suspiciously still upon hearing Diana's statement.

Regaining her composure upon seeing their reaction, Diana raised her chin and said, "You can reach me on my Justice League communicator when you find something." She turned to Talia. "It was nice to meet you." Before either of them could respond, she rose above them and flew out of the cave into the brilliant night sky.

--

Her visit to the Batcave had agitated her more than she had anticipated. Admitting her limitations to anyone caused her dignity to suffer, and to admit them to someone like Bruce was even worse – it had always been particularly painful. As Bruce was similar in this regard, he always took care to wordlessly assist her. But that was the Bruce of ten years ago. Tonight he had been dismissive and arrogant. She knew that he would have had no qualms in rejecting her request, so if he had agreed to help her he would do so dedicatedly.

This was only small assurance, however – she was dealing with a different Bruce and she was a different Diana. For example, the old Bruce smiled but rarely and the old Diana wouldn't have concerned herself with whether or not he did. But tonight, he hadn't been able to stop himself from beaming around Talia. And she was, hours later, still unable to shake the image from her mind.

Hera help her. She was disgusted with herself. A month after the Joker's death, she still hadn't seen Bruce. This had been expected. But when that one month turned into several, and those months turned into a year, Diana had abandoned the possibility of seeing him again. Some heartache had been present, of course, but her sense of pride had protected her from the brunt of it. If he didn't want to see her, she certainly wouldn't condescend to chase after him.

After that one year had passed, accepting the distance between Bruce and her had become easier. For a short time, she had even found a romantic distraction in the form of King Faraday, who had been pleasant enough. Any recollection of Bruce was marked by anger instead of longing. Over time, those recollections had waned as well.

Given this history, she had expected her reunion with him to be one of mild disinterest. Yet since the moment of their first exchange, she felt inexplicably cross.

Perhaps it was because she had fooled herself into thinking that she would still be able to read him. He had always been tryingly enigmatic, but she used to have somewhat of a talent for deciphering him. And in the beginning of their encounter, she had been reassured that this ability still existed – that brief moment in which they had worked together to apprehend his target came easily to her. Out on the wharfs, she had seen a semblance of what she remembered of him. The mild disinterest she had anticipated had even turned into interest following this reunion.

But that interest had transformed into disgust by the time she saw his behavior around Talia – fawning over her, letting her take control. All this from the man who had told her years ago that he couldn't enter a relationship with her because he was a "rich kid with issues – lots of issues." Apparently, Talia had made those issues disappear.

Perhaps that was the problem – Diana felt insulted. Had Bruce detected a shortcoming in her that Talia was immune to? If that was the case, then the problem clearly lay with Bruce and not with her. She was a gifted princess, a respected warrior, a loyal friend – Talia, on the other hand, was a delusional lawbreaker. There was no comparison.

As long as Bruce's newfound penchant for sentimentality did not affect his wits, Diana would learn to deal with it for the time being. Once the investigation was over, she would gladly resume the distance that he had imposed between them.

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

**VIII**

The chill of the Dhaka morning snapped at Diana as she slid open the balcony doors; the drop in temperature galvanized all of her senses at once. She saw Zari sitting on the wicker chair, reading the newspaper with a cup of tea within reach. Sliding the doors shut, she moved to stand behind him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and kissing the top of his head.

"Morning, beloved," he said cheerfully, calling her by a name he used every so often. Visions of Talia suddenly danced in her mind, and she scowled them into oblivion.

Zari didn't notice, as she was out of his field of vision. "_The Guardian_ says that there are six dead in London," he reported to her, "Six, all at once. No known cause."

Diana sighed. Such stories were becoming increasingly common, and only now was the media beginning to take notice of the similarities in the deaths. "That's a hundred dead in three weeks," she said, staring blankly ahead. It had been days since her visit to Gotham, and still no word from Bruce. She wondered if she had perhaps imagined her encounter with him.

"You know what I noticed today?" Zari continued as he set his paper on his lap and poured her a cup of tea from the thermos. She accepted it gratefully. "The cities where these murders are happening are places where the annual International Trade Summits have happened too."

Diana nearly dropped her cup. "What?" she asked.

"I know. The summit's obscure now as it ended in the eighties. I only know because I was doing some research for my next novel."

"So the next scene of the crime will be…?"

Zari thought for a moment and then said, "St. Petersburg, actually."

After squeezing his shoulder in appreciation, she strode inside and clicked on her old Justice League comm. link, which she had kept with her all week in anticipation. "Wonder Woman to Batman," she tried stiffly – saying the once-familiar phrase now felt foreign – most likely, there would be no response.

Some seconds later, she heard, "Yes, Wonder Woman."

"St. Petersburg," she said quickly, "They'll be in St. Petersburg next."

Batman didn't flatter her by asking her how she had found a pattern that he had yet to discover himself – she had expected as much. But he did say, "I'm leaving now," which caught her off guard and left her feeling both relieved and annoyed with herself for feeling so.

She turned around to see Zari staring at her in awe. "Was that Batman?" he asked, his eyes twinkling in boyish wonderment, "He's my favorite."

--

It was just past midnight in St. Petersburg. Batman was already there when Diana arrived at their agreed meeting place. He surveyed her as if he had been there for hours, but she saw the dust still settling around the Batwing and paid his disapproval no mind.

"We'll split up," he said simply, and she agreed to scan the area south.

Despite the late hour, the city was bustling with activity. Streetlamps illuminated crowds of young people stumbling from bar to bar, workers still dotted the docks, and a steady stream of cars filled the roads. When Diana saw a group of three businessmen leave from an office building, her eyes lingered on them for a moment before she, despite the noise on the streets, distinctly heard the rumbling of a motorcycle.

Her eyes darted towards the direction of the noise, and there, just as she had expected, was a black motorcycle with a black-clad driver. "Batman," she managed to hiss as she lunged from her position on the side of a building towards her target. She saw with alarm as he brandished a syringe in his right hand, ready to stab it into one of the businessmen.

But Wonder Woman knew that she could stop him in time. At once, her hand was around his right wrist, and in one easy motion she had him in one hand and his motorcycle in the other. The businessmen watched with mouths agape, until it occurred to one of them to wolf-whistle at their savior.

Wonder Woman, however, was long gone, headed to her and Batman's meeting point. At first, the driver had been too stunned to do anything. But now, he was reanimated, and with great fervency planted a kick on Diana's hip. As she was mid-air, this unsteadied her just enough for the driver to grab wildly for her lasso. She was unable to block him – he could either stab her with his syringe or she could drop the motorcycle on the crowds below if she tried – and to her horror, the lasso disengaged. Angry, she tapped the driver gently with the side of the motorcycle. It was enough to stun him and cause him to drop the lasso.

There goes my solution, she thought wryly as she watched her lasso descend further and further away.

The driver swung around wildly again, this time reaching for the syringe that he held in his captive hand. At the same time, Wonder Woman heard Batman's voice fill her ear. "I'm here."

"Finally," she muttered, and shot towards the ground, seizing the syringe from the driver's hand. Seconds later, she landed, throwing the motorcycle to one side and swinging the driver to grab him by the nape of his jumpsuit. Batman appeared next to her and she handed him the syringe, keeping her eyes fixed on the driver.

"Talk," she demanded, as she pulled off his mask.

But just as the driver's face was revealed, he gave her an amused smile, and within a blink of an eye the space that his head had just occupied was now a tangle of nerves and bleeding flesh.

The explosion itself had made only a moderate amount of noise, but the squelching sound of the remnants of his brain making contact with Diana's skin were especially pronounced. She was covered in his blood and fragments of most of his face. Bruce, who had been standing behind her, had been protected from the bulk of the blast.

With a sigh, Wonder Woman tossed the near-decapitated driver aside and wiped her face with her arm to clear it of the gore. There, resting on the back of her wrist, was one of the driver's irises, perfectly preserved. It stared at her with inscrutable resolve. After staring back for a moment, she flicked it away.

Bruce, meanwhile, materialized before her with her lasso in his possession. As he returned it, she nodded her thanks. "The solution in that syringe needs to be analyzed as soon as possible," she told him.

Bruce gave her an almost imperceptible nod. Diana raised an eyebrow as he reached for her breastplate, holding his hand still for a moment before he pulled out a bloody lump of brain from behind it.

"_Think_ nothing of it," he commented dryly as he presented it to her.

When they were in the Justice League together, they used to exchange quips like this every once in a while, each attempting to trick the other one into smiling. But that was when they were on much better terms. Diana could tell that he hadn't meant to crack the joke, for as soon as he said it, his face turned dark and he swept away.

With an inaudible sigh of relief at his display of regret, she followed.

--

They were back in the Cave. The computer was running analyses on the solution from the syringe, and Batman and Wonder Woman were in front of the mainframe, attempting to find the significance behind the pattern of killings that Diana had become aware of that morning.

They had tried to look for links between the Internal Trade Summit and the murder victims' occupations, networks, anything. When those searches yielded nothing – it seemed that the people being killed were picked haphazardly – they then turned to finding connections between the cities where the killings occurred.

They had been at it for hours. "What about the first letters of the city names?" Diana suggested as she rested her chin on her shoulder. "Maybe they form an anagram."

Bruce assented, and then said, "Landmarks, too."

She thought of the statue by the Elbe, and then straightened up quickly. "Rivers," she said. He nodded again as he typed as if to humor her, but his eyes widened when he looked at the screen. Without having to unscramble the letters, they read: MAINTENANTLEREN.

"_Maintenant le ren_," he read aloud.

"I don't think that last word is finished," she averred. Suddenly, she understood clearly.

"_Renaissance_," he finished, understanding too. "Whoever's doing this is planning on wiping out enough people to qualify it as a 'renaissance.' A rebirth of the world."

Diana clenched her jaw. At the bottom of one of the screens of the console scrolled the headlines. _ST. PETERSBURG - Twenty found dead on the coast of the Neva River_, read one.

* * *


	9. Chapter 9

**IX**

Only an hour later, Wonder Woman was in one of the showers at the Wayne Manor, washing off the gory remnants of her earlier confrontation.

It certainly hadn't been part of her plan. As she had risen to leave for Dhaka, Talia had descended into the cave and insisted that Diana clean up and then stay for breakfast. Diana, of course, had declined the offer graciously – wanting to spend as little time around Talia as possible – but Talia had continued to insist. Finally, Talia had turned to Bruce for assistance, and even Bruce had said without meeting Diana's eye,

"You won't do the people of Dhaka any favors smelling like that."

And then Talia herself had led Diana to a guest room and instructed her that breakfast was at eight, and that Clark and Lois were also joining them.

Only when Diana looked down at the bone and muscle fragments collecting on the shower drain did she realize how awful she must have looked. And once she slipped on a freshly laundered bathrobe, she noticed that she really had smelled like a carcass for the last several hours.

But this pleasantness was fleeting. When she opened the bathroom door into the bedroom, she was met with the dull gray of the thunderstorm visible through the large windows; her eyes fell on the only bright thing in the room, which was the dress laid out for her on the bed. Suddenly, she felt her heart beating in her ears. Walking over slowly, she picked up the dress, gathered it in her arms, and fell sitting on the edge of the bed.

The dress itself was unremarkable. It was blue, cotton, and terribly out of style now. But it was the dress that Diana had given to Bruce over ten years ago to keep at the Wayne Manor. Just in case she ever spent the night, they had decided. Just in case.

Diana had forgotten all about the dress. Yet he had kept it for more than ten years.

Who had left it here for her? Could it have been Talia, or Alfred? Or even – and here she felt her heartbeat grow loud again – Bruce? She stared at it for another few minutes before she pulled it on.

At eight o'clock she descended the stairs and entered the dining room, where a smiling Clark awaited her. "Hi there," he greeted, and enveloped her in a warm hug. He then proceeded to unabashedly search her eyes with his own, which were full of solicitude. As she was unsure of how to respond, she gave him an arch smile, at which he peeked over his glasses as if to say, "All right – for now."

The reunion between the two friends was interrupted by Talia's voice. "It is unfortunate that Lois could not accompany you, Clark," she purred as she set something on the table.

"Oh, yes," Clark nodded, stepping away from Diana and pushing up his glasses, "But Lois is Lois. Always where the action is." As he said this, he beamed proudly, and then turned to Diana. "Lois just uncovered the plans of a mob that's been lying low for a while now," he explained, "They expedited the trial to this morning."

"It wasn't a job for Superman, then?" asked Talia.

Clark shook his head again. "I've got to draw the line somewhere – for Lois, of course."

"I wish you could teach Batman to do the same," Talia sighed, and again, Diana felt her muscles tense in anticipation. "I fully support his fight against injustice in Gotham, but he and Wonder Woman were up _all_ night working on an outside case."

Diana wanted to remind Talia – and not kindly – that he had stayed awake out of his own free will and accord, but Clark, noticing the dangerous glint in his friend's eyes, interjected quickly. "How _is_ that going, by the way?" he inquired.

Diana unwillingly forced herself to become collected enough to answer him. "We've hardly made progress," she admitted truthfully, and as Talia had stepped out of the room just then, she relayed the events of last night to him; no doubt that Bruce had taken Talia into confidence about the case, but Diana was unwilling to do the same.

"The League ought to patrol the other target cities," he said gravely, but then shifted his tone. "How are _you_?" he asked, putting his hand on her arm, "Is this – is all of this okay?"

She paused for a moment before she answered. "This is the first time I've been to the Manor since the Joker was killed."

He nodded sadly. "I know. But I think you did the right thing by turning to Bruce for help on this case."

"Did I have any other choice?" she asked bitterly, and Clark said nothing. It was just as well. Talia returned to the room then, and right behind her was Bruce.

It was the first time since their reunion that Diana was seeing him without his cowl, and she couldn't help but inspect him curiously. He was unmistakably the same as he was when she last saw him, but with some significant modifications. He was still regal; his body was lean and powerful, still in its prime. The hair at his temples was graying faster than the rest, and the lines around his mouth were more pronounced. Even the corners of his eyes were creased, but the eyes themselves were still sharply blue, and they too were gazing at her with interest.

Suddenly, Diana could feel the weight of the dress against her skin even though it was impractically light for the late September weather in Gotham. As if realizing abruptly what he was doing, Bruce nodded at her and then turned to shake Clark's hand; Diana lowered her gaze and felt herself blushing.

Once everyone had taken their seats, breakfast was served and they fell into strained small talk. Lois was the subject of choice for some time, as all four of them liked her, but when that conversation began to lag too, Talia turned to Diana. "I've already approached the subject with Clark, but I would love to hear from you too." Her one visible eyebrow was arched inquisitively. "What was my beloved like when he was in the Justice League?"

Diana hadn't expected this question, so she paused before she answered, "Batman has always had a logical mind. He approached our missions with a clear plan of action and was willing to make difficult choices. If it wasn't for him, many of our missions wouldn't have been successful." It was true, of course, yet it was hardly complete. Her respect for him had been boundless, but she couldn't bring herself to confide all of this in Talia, and certainly not over breakfast with him listening like this.

On the other hand, Talia seemed pleased with this answer; she put her hand on his and began to rub her thumb across his wrist. Bruce, in turn, put his other hand on hers. "And beloved?" Talia pressed, "What was Wonder Woman like in those days?"

Bruce, with all of his attention focused on the platter in front of him, said quietly, "She was the most talented and dedicated member of the League."

Diana saw Talia's possessive grip on Bruce's hand relax at once, even though her face remained as coolly disinterested as it always was. Clark noticed it too, because he immediately added, "That's true, no one can deny Diana's talent and dedication," as if to diffuse the swift change in the mood at the table.

If Bruce sensed this shift, he gave no indication of it. He continued to keep his hand on Talia's as he stared at the food before him. Diana glanced at him – angered, flattered, perplexed – deliberating a response when her phone vibrated. It was Zari.

While normally she had no qualms about returning his calls later, she was glad for the chance just then to collect her thoughts. "I'm sorry, you'll have to excuse me," she told the others, and, still tense, headed for the covered balcony just outside of the room.

"I just saw the news about St. Petersburg, Diana," Zari's concerned voice filled her ear as she slid the door shut behind her. His voice somehow loosened the tightness in her chest, and she managed a smile.

"Thanks to you, we've made progress," she assured him as she held her hand out into the rain.

"I'm glad to hear it, but even then, I assumed that I wouldn't see you for a while, so I decided to give you a call," Zari said, and then sighed melodramatically. "I'm lying all alone in this enormous bed and missing you terribly."

"Oh?" she leaned against the pillar, eager for the pleasant distraction, "So what are you wearing?"

"…A full pajama set," he admitted. "But you could easily Wonder Woman your way through the doors right now and rip it off of me."

The laugh she responded with was short, but earnest. They talked for a minute or two longer, her mood improving as they did, but as soon the call ended, her previous sense of bewilderment stung her again. The way Bruce had acted around her in the past several days certainly wasn't reflected in his praise of her; she couldn't set aside the feeling that he had chosen his words in order to elicit a reaction from Talia. The more she thought about this possibility, the more Diana was convinced of its truth. If he really thought so highly of her, he wouldn't have excluded her from his life completely. However, enough time had passed now for her to regard this fact indifferently.

She didn't return inside at once, instead choosing to linger under the awning to enjoy the scent of the early morning rain. If she returned then, she would have to spend longer with a supercilious Talia and an anxious Clark, not to mention a Bruce who seemed set on avoiding her presence. But moments later, to her surprise, a hand behind her held out a fawn-colored shawl. Even more surprising, the hand didn't belong to Clark, as she guessed, but to someone else.

She accepted the shawl from the unsmiling Bruce and wrapped it around her shoulders. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second, and both looked out into the rain. Bruce moved from behind Diana to stand a couple of feet adjacent to her, and then took a drink of his coffee.

Neither one said a word. Both listened to the steady hum of the rainfall, which was punctuated only by the sounds of Bruce sipping from his mug. When even that sound didn't reemerge for longer than usual, Diana glanced over at him. Then before she could stop herself, she asked,

"Why?" She didn't mean for her voice to crack as she said it.

Bruce, without shifting his gaze from the view in front of him, said quietly, "I don't know." He stood immobile for some time, but when it became clear that the conversation wasn't going to continue, he returned to the dining room, leaving Diana alone on the balcony.

* * *


	10. Chapter 10

**X**

"The problem – so to speak, but I would hesitate to call it that – with the narrator then is that he sees his state of happiness as a disease. But at the same time, he's enraptured by the prosody of life," Zari finished his statement with a slight nod of satisfaction when he saw that his audience was captivated. He glanced over at Diana and gave her a half-smile, which she returned, beaming.

Zari's last novel had just received an eminent literary prize. Diana had traveled with him to London for the week as he participated in the ceremonial aspect of the award. Tonight was a panel discussion with past winners of the prize, and Zari was addressing a select crowd, Wonder Woman among them – a fact not unnoticed by the British journalists.

Diana, who had forgotten just how distracting the paparazzi outside of Dhaka could be, was trying valiantly to remain as neutral as she could. But tonight, Zari made doing so difficult. She sat in the front row with a smile as the panel moderator cleared his throat, and then she heard the swift sound of a transmitter coming to life, and then – "Diana, there's something here that you should see."

The Batman.

With a hand on her ear, she rose from her seat and quickly walked from the room into the hallway; she heard the sound of clicking cameras upon her departure. "What is it?" she asked. Her fingers began to tap in anticipation.

"I can't talk now, but meet me by the old Gotham Skating Rink as soon as you can. I'm sending the coordinates to the Watchtower." With that, he was offline.

Diana scowled. It would take her time to readjust to working with him. When she heard the faint sound of applause, she peeked into the room she had just left and saw with relief that the event was ending – the panelists were rising from their seats, as was the audience. Luckily, she caught Zari's eye at that moment. "Gotham," she mouthed as she motioned to the west with her hands. Zari winked at her and held up his hand in farewell.

Satisfied, she returned her attention to her comm. link. "This is Wonder Woman requesting transport."

"Ah, a skating rink," came Shayera's voice after a moment's delay, "Date with Brucie?"

Diana hadn't expected to hear from her friend. "Of sorts," she answered breezily. "I think he has a lead for me." And with a flash, she was gone.

--

Batman was waiting for her in a dark corner; had she not worked with him countless times before, she would have missed his presence completely. "Did I interrupt something?" he asked when he saw that she was wearing a dress, although his voice registered no concern over the fact.

Diana peeled off the dress and tossed it aside to reveal her armor. "That's a Chanel," she rued as she placed her tiara on her head.

"Pity," he answered dryly, and a corner of Diana's mouth lifted. Without warning, he shot his grappling hook into the sky and flew into the air and she took off after him.

Soon, they were in the manager's booth of the promised abandoned skating rink. No one else seemed to be in the building but them. "Isn't this inherently conspicuous?" she asked when she saw him draw his cape over his shoulders and step into a shadowy corner of the cramped room.

"One way window," he answered, "And this place is too small to do them any good." He was right. With all of the equipment in the room, there was barely a yard of room between him and Diana as it was.

Despite the spatial circumstances, Diana took a seat on the sole chair placed in front of the control board; it released a cloud of dust upon contact with her. Bruce betrayed his discomfort with a quick cough that he seemed to cut short out of pride. "Why are we here?" she asked finally.

He straightened his posture even more. "The night you came to me at the docks I was investigating a series of mysterious shipments involving Rupert Thorne and a man named Slick. It turns out that they're just brokering the exchange for someone else. Whom, I don't know…_yet_."

She crossed her arms. "And?" she demanded.

"One of the buyers of the shipments will be here tonight."

Half-expecting the answer, she pressed, "I don't see what this—"

"Diana, the shipments are canisters of the same liquid as the one you obtained in St. Petersburg."

If she weren't already sitting, she would have been unsteady, somewhat lightheaded with the thrill of anticipating a good fight. It could all be over tonight. "Well, stakeouts with you _were _always interesting," she admitted as she adjusted her position to look out the booth's window. Even though he was washed in darkness, she saw his mouth twitch as she turned away.

--

Diana, who had been resting her chin on her hand, sat up when she saw the lights of the rink flicker on. Behind her, she felt Bruce shift, and when she turned to see, she saw that he had a hand to his ear and his eyes were narrowed – he was listening in. When she returned to her observation of the scene, she saw that a small group of people had gathered at the periphery of the rink, half of them in the same black jumpsuits that she had encountered so often in the last few weeks.

Then at once, the surface of the rink was covered in a sheet of ice.

"Victor Fries?" she stared in astonishment.

Bruce gave a dangerous growl when Mr. Freeze appeared into view to confirm it. The villain's red eyes glowed ominously, causing the crowd of people to part in order to allow him to walk onto the rink.

"That's Slick," he told her, indicating a man in a business suit approaching Freeze. They watched as Slick's assistants dragged several crates onto the rink, struggling to keep them in order on the frictionless ice.

"Have you got skates in that belt of yours?" Diana asked when Batman moved to stand next to her. In response, he clicked open a compartment of his belt and pulled out two blades, which doubled in length with a click.

"Decorative _and_ functional," he replied dryly, his eyes not leaving Freeze.

"Ah," was all Diana could think to say.

They watched Mr. Freeze and Slick exchange some words, and then it was time for the former to inspect the shipment. He broke the staves of one of the crates with a blast of icicles from his hand, and then inserted a syringe into the canister within. He followed this by saying something else, which made Bruce shift slightly. "He's looking for someone to test this batch on."

"Let's not give him a chance," Diana declared. Before Batman could react, Wonder Woman had hurtled through the window separating the booth from the rink and was tearing through the air towards the syringe Freeze was brandishing.

Despite her speed, she was met with a blast of ice from his hands, which she managed to deflect with her gauntlets. At the same time, she was hit with a blow to her side that sent her flying in the opposite direction. Her trajectory was blocked by a solid figure in a less solid cape –

"I can manage Freeze," Batman barked, "See if you can take care of the shipment." With a nod, she unfastened her lasso from her side and was pleased to see that his hand was already outstretched. Their eyes locked for the briefest of instances, and then she shot across the room to the crates, which were quickly being moved by Slick and his companions.

Although there were a dozen of them to deal with, Wonder Woman hardly found it a challenge. The fight was made more interesting by the large shards of ice falling from the ceiling, and when one of her opponents discovered that it was possible to slice through her skin with his skates, they all began to employ that tactic. Soon, the air was filled with the sound of metals striking as Diana blocked their bladed kicks with her gauntlets. The endless supply of blood droplets bouncing on the ice only added to her high spirits.

Truth be told, some of her attention was focused on Bruce. Whenever Freeze seemed to have a good shot at him, she would fling one of her combatants to unsteady the villain. Once, when she was attacked from the back, Bruce had somehow been nearby and had peeled her assailant off of her – he was keeping an eye on her as well.

And just as Diana was deciding on how to create a hole in the ceiling to begin hurling some of the canisters into the nearby river, she saw that Bruce was down, that he was slowly rising to his feet, that Freeze was moving his hands back, ready to deliver the final blow –

"Batman!" she cried, and bolted towards him. Before Freeze's icy blast could hit its intended target, she had pushed her teammate out of the way.

But what happened next was less clear. As she and Freeze began to battle, one of his blasts managed to knock her over, sending her sliding across the ice, only to be greeted by another shower of icicles. In the flurry of ice that followed, she felt a sharp pain and then – she suddenly felt her blood circulating slower – her heart beating less – her limbs going numb, a coldness spreading from her periphery to her spine – she sensed that Batman was nearby now, perhaps saying something, and then –

it was over.

* * *

**AN**: I don't think I've mentioned this, but I started med school recently and I'm still getting used to it, so around exams it's almost impossible for me to make time for anything but the library. Thanks for being patient with me while I wrote this chapter.

Also, a note about the two characters that are pains-in-the-ass for many of you. About Zari – he's meant to be a generic nice guy and a plot device above all else. I'm getting annoyed lately that I rely on him so much to keep the story moving, as I don't really like OCs in general. Now as for Talia – I should come clean: I think she's HOT, and after Andrea Beaumont she's my favorite one of DCAU Bruce Wayne's love interests.


	11. Chapter 11

**XI**

Wonder Woman had a fever.

It was an unfamiliar sensation to have her throat burning and her eyes on fire – unless she was actually fighting in the midst of flames – and her body seemed to ache at the precise borders of her bones and muscles.

She opened her eyes and let out a quiet groan, until she recalled her last memory: fighting Freeze, feeling an agonizing pain, and Bruce…she sat up at once, only to feel something tugging at the back of her hand. Her hand was connected to an intravenous drip feed, and she realized that she was lying on a gurney.

"Good, you're up," Bruce addressed her flatly.

He was sitting several feet from her, leg over his knee and his fingers knitted together under his chin. When she looked at him, he shifted from his position stiffly, as though he had been sitting that way for quite some time.

"What happened with Freeze?" she demanded, upon seeing that they were in the Batcave.

"He got away," he said simply.

"He was the only one left standing in the room. You could have handled him," she accused.

"I could have," he agreed, "but my priority was getting you out of there."

At this, she was aware of the extent of her fever again. "What happened?" she asked, unable to keep from wincing.

Bruce stood up and walked towards his workbench. "Freeze managed to inject you with his infectious chemical after slowing you down with that snowstorm."

"…But I survived thanks to you?"

"I won't take all of the credit," he conceded with a shrug, "Your gifts from the gods helped you too." When Diana remained silent, he continued, "I've been working on an antidote, and you were the first one to receive it."

"Hera," she replied, unable to articulate her feelings, "That's why I remember you tearing towards me right before I lost consciousness."

Bruce turned towards her with an expression that she couldn't quite decipher. They were both quiet, and then he finally asked, "How do you feel?"

"Fever, body aches…and I'm shivering a little," she listed. "It's all uncharted territory for Wonder Woman."

He lazily raised an eyebrow in assent. "If it were anyone else, I would give them strict orders for bed rest, but because it's you…"

"You know I won't have any of it," she finished for him. They exchanged tentative smiles at this. "Have your leads told you anything about where Freeze is now?" she asked, "When are we going after him again?"

"It's ten in the morning."

So she had been unconscious for several hours. Now that she was reoriented, she had a chance to be angry with herself for being such an easy target. Had she not been hit, they would have had Freeze – and after interrogating him with her lasso, they could have put an end to it all. Scowling, she said, "I think I need some sunlight."

"We can go for a walk in the backyard," Bruce suggested.

"Can we?" she challenged, "What if someone were to see a person in Wonder Woman costume attached to an IV walking around in Bruce Wayne's backyard?"

He nodded, and disappeared. Diana frowned and sank back into the gurney – as it was, she was surprised that he had been so sociable – until she heard him return several minutes later. She glanced over to see that he was carrying a dress over his arm. As he drew nearer, she recognized it as the same one she had worn in London and had bid farewell to outside of the Gotham skating rink.

Diana couldn't hide her astonishment.

"It _is_ a Chanel," he explained to her expression.

--

Despite the cold Gotham wind, the warm sunshine had its desired effect on Diana. In the beginning, she had to rely on the drip feed stand for support, but the longer they walked, the steadier she felt. Bruce walked next to her quietly, offering no assistance, perhaps because he knew that she would have angrily refused it.

"This is the most trying part of the job," she said, after they had spent half of an hour in silence. "Recovering."

"You were never very good at taking time off," he agreed.

It was a conversation they had had many times. "You should talk," she retorted, knowing what he'd say next.

"I'm different," he answered smugly.

"Well I suppose if I had that many toys at work, I'd never want to take time off either." Bruce turned to her with a scowl, but when he saw that she was joking, he relaxed.

"Aren't things different now that you have Talia at home?" she inquired, as she distinctly remembered a stakeout when he had told her that he had no time for a relationship. When she realized what she had said, she was surprised at herself.

Even he seemed to be taken off guard by the question. "Talia doesn't interfere," he managed; the image of the leather armchair in the Cave came to Diana's mind, and she pursed her lips dubiously.

"You don't like her," he observed, and she looked at him with a hint of a smirk.

"I never said that," she reminded him.

"You don't have to," he shrugged. "In the time I've known you, you've never been generous with your trust, Diana."

"I'm still that way," she replied, unapologetic. "But as I recall, we were similar in this respect – or have _you_ changed in the last ten years?" It was the first time that they were talking about the intervening years, and the hints of apprehension she was feeling were becoming interspersed with the kind of adrenaline she felt right before a battle.

"I've trusted very few people in my life," he said quietly, "and most of the time, I've been disappointed."

For some reason, she felt awash in grimness at his pronouncement. After all, she had trusted him with her feelings all those years ago, and _he_ had been the one to cast her aside. "But you trust Talia," she said.

Bruce said nothing. They had stopped walking and were standing by a glistening koi pond; the sun's reflection sparkled on its surface with searing brightness, but Diana and Bruce still stubbornly stared into the water. "Talia is a calculated risk," he said finally.

Diana wasn't sure what she had expected in response, but it certainly wasn't this. "And I suppose by telling me so you've taken another calculated risk?" she spat.

"Something like that," he answered dismissively, and Diana's eyes flashed.

But then the sound of a door sliding open caused both of them to look up, and there was Talia herself, who nodded at them and made her way over to the pond. Bruce and Diana exchanged glances and attempted to appear pleasant.

After Talia greeted Bruce with a kiss, she turned to his companion. "Wonder Woman," she greeted smoothly, "I hadn't expected to see you until tomorrow night."

Diana raised an eyebrow. "…Tomorrow night?"

"Yes, I'm hosting a banquet for the British Embassy for their National Literature Award winner. Surely you're accompanying the guest of honor?"

"Of course I'll attend with Zari," Diana answered regally; she saw that Bruce's look betrayed a hint of confusion. Perhaps he didn't know about her relationship – but that was impossible. He was informed about everything; for him to be ignorant of information that was so easily available was inconceivable. She continued, "But I was under the impression that the banquet was at the Embassy itself."

"They needed a larger venue when they saw how many were interested in attending," Talia explained, "It seems that this particular novel has elicited quite a bit of admiration."

As she politely discussed the merits of Zari's book with Talia, Diana noticed that the confused expression on Bruce's face was replaced by one of realization, and even – although perhaps only she could discern it – annoyance. All of a sudden, his hand was around the drip feed stand and his other was tightening the stopper to slow the flow of the emptying fluid. Diana, too, pulled the needle out of her hand in one fluid motion and released it; it hit the stand with a dull clink and continued to bounce, each successive sound becoming softer.

"Thank you," she told him evenly, and turned to Talia, "And thank you for allowing Bruce to spend the morning with me."

Bruce grumbled something in reply, making it clear from his tone that he thought Diana's dig at him was puerile. Talia's farewell was much warmer. Diana left them standing together hand-in-hand in the garden.

* * *


	12. Chapter 12

**XII**

It was night in Cairo. Wonder Woman switched on the backlight of the console in her invisible jet and continued scanning the area surrounding the Nile. Below her, a luxury resort spread like an open scroll; it was awash in artificial lighting, rendering everything around it dim in comparison.

A constant string of chatter streamed from the jet's radio.

"C-17, all clear."

"And the weather here is beautiful."

"It wasn't easy, but curfew's on in D-10. All clear."

"A-8, all clear."

"B-16, all clear," said Wonder Woman, after scrutinizing the perimeters of the resort once more.

"C-18, all clear," reported Green Arrow's voice some seconds later.

It had been many years since Diana had worked with multiple members of the Justice League on a case, and she found herself appreciating the sense of security and thoroughness unique to teamwork. The League had decided to become involved in the case at last, as she had learned from Clark upon her return from Gotham. Her first thought upon hearing this had been of Batman and his self-imposed exile from everyone in the League.

Clark sensed this, as he had had the same concerns. "Don't worry," he had assured her, "I already told Bruce."

"And I'm sure that a ten-year absence from the League didn't make his heart grow any fonder?" she had countered with a conspiratorial smirk.

"Nope," Clark had agreed cheerfully.

But Diana knew as well as Clark did that Batman had no real grounds for objecting to Justice League involvement. While he worked on synthesizing antidotes and uncovering motives, someone had to keep the body count from proliferating.

Tonight, the target was Cairo, and Wonder Woman, along with three members of the Justice League, had every inch of the city under surveillance.

"D-11, all clear," Hawkman updated.

"It's only a matter of time," Diana warned, "They emerge all at once."

"How many are we expecting here?" asked Green Arrow.

Just at that moment her eye caught a motorcycle heading to the resort at an alarming speed. "All we need is one," she growled, and then announced, "I've got someone in B-16, I'm going down." As she opened the hatch of the jet, she heard Ollie yell, "Whoa! C-20! C-20!"

So it was underway. She sped towards her black-clad target, her resolution heightened by her level of irritation. These mysterious assassins were a challenge, but only because they were so trigger-happy – she would have to find a way to circumvent their cowardice tonight.

Diana lunged for the motorcycle and grabbed hold of it from the back, but the driver managed a violently sharp turn in response, catching her off guard and sending her flying through the air. She managed to slow her trajectory and head towards him again.

Her hands made contact with his chest, and she swung him with all her might – now it was his turn to careen above the ground and land on a table in the middle of the resort's outdoor dinner buffet. The hotel patrons had little time to react, however, because within the blink of an eye, Wonder Woman had landed on her knees on top of the man in the jumpsuit.

If this encounter were anything like the others, she would have very little time before he resorted to killing himself in a spectacular fashion. And true to form, he began to laugh while he struggled to pull an arm free from under Diana; successful, he grabbed a woman standing inches from him who had been filling her plate but was now frozen in shock.

Angrily, Diana stood up in surrender. Her opponent continued to laugh as he sat up and pulled out a syringe.

She reacted at once, pushing the woman with the plate out of the way and planting a kick on him at the same time. His course was shortened when he collided with a large replica of a sphinx. When he saw Wonder Woman heading for him, he wrenched free and displayed the syringe yet again.

Diana couldn't help but be impressed by his tenacity – he acted as though he had a chance against her. But as they engaged in combat – the chase now over – she was surprised to find that he was a skilled fighter. He was no meta, but she still had her hands full for quite some time before she finally managed to slam him against a wall with her hand around his throat.

"I have a lasso that makes people like you writhe in agony," she spat, "Just _give_ me a chance to use it."

His only response was to curl his fists, and Diana suddenly remembered a night in the Batcave when she and Bruce had determined that the detonator for the explosive in their opponents' brains was physiological – acting on instinct, she suddenly had her hands around his wrists. There was a loud snap.

His screams filled the night sky, but Wonder Woman only looked at him. "You cannot escape," she informed him coldly, her warrior upbringing coursing through every vessel in her body. All compassion vanished for the time being, she secured him with her lasso.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

The black-clad assassin was perfectly still, all pain forgotten for the time being. "I am John Faust," he answered blankly.

"Why are you doing this?"

"The world is gravely ill, Wonder Woman. We are only attempting to heal the insult by ridding it of its infection, making way for a new world order."

"And you would die in the process?"

"My cause is noble, my intentions are pure."

_Maintenant le Renaissance_. She had expected as much.

"Who is going to rule in this new world order? Mr. Freeze?"

To her surprise, he laughed. Begrudgingly, she wondered if that would have happened were Batman doing the questioning instead of her. "Oh, this goes far beyond _Mr. Freeze_," he answered.

"Then who—"

She was interrupted by a tap on her shoulder, and the words, "I regret to inform you that you must cease your interrogation at once, Wonder Woman."

Diana closed her eyes slowly and then turned around, opening them to find herself face to face with the Cairo police, flanked by members of Interpol. "With all due respect—" she began.

"We understand the gravity of the situation," the chief of police interrupted her again, "but I am afraid that your lasso violates all sovereign laws and international treaties."

"I understand," she replied, quite familiar with this refrain, "but if I may ask just one more question…"

"I'm sorry. Perhaps if you were a current member of the Justice League we would act differently, but presently you are not a recognized agent of law enforcement."

Stupid little man, she thought scornfully. With a sigh, she removed the lasso from around the assassin and secured it on her belt. "Superman will be contacting you about the results of your interrogation," she told them. With one last look, she left.

--

As she was fighting alongside Green Arrow some minutes later, Diana mulled over the few bits of information she had gleaned from her short audience with the mysterious, well-trained assassin. The goal of his organization was to create a new world order in which Freeze apparently played only a supporting role. This seemed to have a reasonable enough link to the fact that the cities being targeted with the infectious agents had been previous hosts for the International Trade Summits…

"Ready for the party tonight?" grunted Ollie as he struggled with another assassin in black.

At the mention of the impending party at the Wayne Mansion, an image of Talia flashed through her mind, and then –

"Oh Hera," she implored softly.

"What was that?" gasped Ollie.

Shaking the image from her mind, she moved to hold their struggling rival in place while Green Arrow pulled out one of his more traditional tranquilizer darts. As she saw the police arriving at the scene, she didn't bother with her lasso.

Perhaps it was just as well. She didn't know what would happen if she were to confirm her suspicions. "I mean no disrespect to your judgment, but he and I are having trouble getting along as it is," she appealed to the heavens in a low voice.

"Having trouble deciding what to wear?" asked a visibly confused Ollie.

* * *


	13. Chapter 13

**XIII**

The skillful hands of a concert pianist provided a background for the steady hum of chatter and clinking glasses in the Wayne Mansion ballroom; despite its size, it was filled to capacity. But Wonder Woman stood alone in an adjoining room. Her hand rested on a window frame as she gazed out into the garden, which was awash with the dull glow of numerous paper lanterns.

She was thinking about Bruce. It was a subject that she rarely contemplated anymore, and its forgotten familiarity made her shift uncomfortably. As it was, thinking about Bruce reminded her of the aching unhappiness she had struggled to overcome after they had parted ways so many years ago.

Diana had been in his company for several hours that night, but she had yet to share with him her suspicions about Talia. Not that she hadn't had the opportunity – many times during the night, she had found herself standing alone next to Bruce as Talia, fulfilling her duties as gracious host, swept Zari away to introduce him to various admirers of his work. Diana only would have had to hint at a meeting in the Cave and Bruce would have obliged at once; she had no doubt about that.

But he seemed so happy around Talia.

It was a very strange thing to see Bruce happy. Diana thought that she had made Bruce feel that way once upon a time. When they were together during their days in the Justice League, he often relaxed the rigid rules that he bound himself by when he was around her – to Diana, all this seemed to indicate that he was glad to be with her. After what happened with Tim, Diana was certain that Bruce would quash any of his own feelings of happiness with a sense of guilt, which she had eventually reasoned was why he had severed ties with her. So, understandably, she was not prepared to see Bruce like this.

To be sure, he wasn't abundantly happy – the something unmistakable in his eyes only occurred when he looked at Talia. Still, Diana hadn't thought it possible. Telling Bruce that his beloved Talia might be involved in something like this – when she was the only one who lightened his spirits… – and there was no telling what would happen to the working relationship that she and Bruce had cobbled together so sedulously over the last few weeks.

But there were too many lives at stake for her to worry about sparing Bruce's feelings. Diana was kindhearted, but she was not so compassionate that she would compromise her duty to the world – to herself –

"The death toll tonight in Cairo is sixty people, Diana," growled Bruce as he interrupted her solitude and jerked the door shut, "What kind of an operation did you run down there?"

Compassion be damned. She turned to face Bruce with a scowl that nearly mirrored his. "I did fine," she snapped, although the magnitude of the death toll surprised her, "How is _your_ investigation?"

Smugness barely contained, he related the latest whereabouts of Mr. Freeze. "He's been seen in a private airfield warehouse—"

Diana grew impatient. "I think that Freeze is in the Society of Shadows," she interrupted.

Bruce lifted an eyebrow. "Impossible," he declared at once, "The Society disbanded when R'as died."

"What proof do you have of that?" she demanded, and then a thought occurred to her. "…Other than Talia's settling down with you?"

She had hit a nerve, she noted with guilty satisfaction. At once, Bruce grew stern. "Diana," he warned.

"I refuse to believe that you're so enthralled by her that you've forgotten to examine all possible alternatives," she insisted, then hissed, "_You carry around kryptonite_."

Bruce looked as though he wasn't going to answer her – his eyes began to narrow, but then he decided against it. "Talia isn't her father," he said with a tone meant to indicate that he was through with the conversation.

Diana was going to have none of it. "You won't even _consider_ the possibility that she could be involved in this!" she cried in surprise, and then knit her brow together. "Have you placed so much of your trust in Talia that you have none left in me?"

Bruce was quiet. Diana was so angry and bewildered that she could only speak in a slow, gelid voice.

"Remember that night we ran into Circe?" – although she knew that he remembered perfectly – "You gave a list of reasons for why you opposed a relationship with me. I disagreed with you then, but I respected your decision, because I respect _you_. But there must be something particularly special about Talia, because you put aside that very same logic for her."

"I fail to understand the comparison," he said tersely. But he didn't storm out of the room.

"Oh, I was surprised at the similarities between the two of us myself." She laughed dryly. "My god-given immortality bothered you, but Talia's years granted by the Lazarus Pits don't? Being with me would have made you vulnerable to your enemies, but being with Talia doesn't? I'm not sure I understand you, Bruce. I know that Talia is important to you, but we can't ignore any of the possibilities in this case when there are so many lives at stake."

His eyes flashed; his fists were clenched so hard that they were nearly shaking. But for once, Diana seemed to have better control over herself. "I'm sorry that you have to consider this possibility," she said gently, "but I'm not sorry that I brought it up." After considering for a moment, she opened the door to rejoin the guests in the ballroom.

--

As much as Diana and Bruce wanted to avoid each other for the time being, they were compelled to stay in each other's company that night, as Zari and Talia had taken a liking to each other.

"This party is magnificent, Talia," praised Zari, "Really, you've done too much. I'm honored."

"Please," Talia purred as she wrapped an arm around her beloved's, "It was my pleasure. Bruce and I adored your novel."

"You _read_, Mr. Wayne?" Diana feigned surprise.

"You know, Wonder Woman, I decided to take a crack at your boyfriend's novel when I realized that running a multi-billion dollar company must mean that I have _some_ brains," Bruce answered smoothly.

"One of the disadvantages of aging, I'm sure," commiserated Diana.

The subsequent look they exchanged was frosty, yet it contained a hint of suppressed laughter. However, at their elbows, Talia and Zari looked aghast. The former nudged Bruce and frowned at him sternly.

At this, Bruce broke eye contact with Diana and nodded at his fiancée. "Wonder Woman, maybe you can help me out," he said, returning his attention to her, "Talia and I just bid on an ancient Greek ceremonial goblet, but we're not sure if we're being ripped off. Take a look?" He tilted his head towards the hallway. Diana agreed, and followed him into one of his many studies.

Both looked extremely satisfied with themselves; Bruce barked, "Cave. Twenty minutes," and then turned to leave.

Diana glanced at him over her shoulder with a smirk, but then turned to find herself facing with Alfred – suddenly, there was a lump in her throat. While she had reencountered Bruce some weeks ago, this was the first time that she was seeing Alfred since the rift between her and his employer.

They exchanged stiff, uncertain smiles, as if they were unsure of what weight their former familiarity held after the intervening years of silence. "Your highness," he greeted politely.

"Alfred," she acknowledged.

"Forgive me, but I didn't think that I would ever have the pleasure of meeting you again."

She almost grimaced at his bracing honesty. "I hope my presence isn't distressing," she said.

"Oh my, no, most certainly not," Alfred insisted, "I've always enjoyed your company. It was Master Bruce – or rather, his mission – who found it difficult to be around you." He gave her a look that she couldn't decipher, and added softly, "I believe it is _still_ difficult, perhaps."

It was Diana's turn to be surprised. "…Alfred?"

Although Alfred rarely betrayed his feelings – a trait that his surrogate son had acquired and perfected to a fault – his face grew dark. "Master Bruce defied all odds by finding happiness after the incident with Master Timothy, Miss Diana. Please be kind to him."

"If Talia has a hand in these murders, there's nothing I can do to prevent it," she said stiffly.

"It's not his losing Madam Talia that concerns me, it is his finding you while she is around."

Diana blinked twice. "That won't happen, Alfred," she assured him.

He gave her a kind smile, and then stood straighter and rearranged his expression, becoming the very picture of decorum. "Very good. I am here because your presence at the party is being requested," he informed her, "The hosts and the guest of honor are nearly ready to release the hounds if you're kept any longer, I'm afraid."

"I'll be right there," she nodded, and Alfred disappeared. Diana didn't notice him leave; suddenly, everything had become perfectly still except for her blood, which was all rushing to her face.

* * *

**AN:** I have an aversion to clothing descriptions within stories because very few people can make them sound like part of the narrative. HOWEVER as I am one of those people who devour issues of Elle, I _did_ have a fun five minutes imagining what everyone was wearing in this chapter. Wonder Woman is in a one-shoulder Marchesa drape gown (like ancient Greece meets jazz). And Talia is straight up in a long-sleeve navy blue Givenchy. !.


	14. Chapter 14

**XIV**

The Gotham night sky was diffused in a brilliant violet. The patches of it that weren't covered in heavy black clouds gave way to a view of scattered stars. Still, it was unlit enough for the Batwing to soar unnoticed through the sky.

The inside of the Batwing too was dark, aglow in the dull red of the control panel buttons. Batman was at the helm, and Wonder Woman sat behind him. Silently, she watched him steer as she tried to ignore her lingering discomposure. Alfred's words tonight were still with her – _It was Master Bruce – or rather, his mission – who found it difficult to be around you…I believe it is _still_ difficult, perhaps_.

Before they had left the Batcave, Bruce had turned to her and asked dryly, "Care to drive?" Taken aback, she had managed to find a retort at which he had smirked approvingly. It was clear that they were falling back into their old pattern, and previously, Diana would have taken it as a sign of her ability to forgive and forget. But her brief conversation with Alfred tonight suddenly reminded her that she wasn't good at forgiving people, and if anything, her relationship with Bruce was changing for the better because, perhaps, _something_ was still there.

Batman suddenly took a sharp turn and the Batwing careened towards the ground. Diana grabbed the back of his seat as a reflex, and he glanced at her with a look that challenged, "Oh, really?" This shouldn't have bothered her so much.

_It's not his losing Madam Talia that concerns me, it is his finding you while she is around._

They landed in a secluded clearing and disembarked, heading for the private airfield that Batman's informant had promised would serve as Freeze's location for the night. When they saw several guards lying unconscious at the entrance, they knew that they were on the right track. It took them only a few minutes' search to find Freeze in one of the airport's hangars.

It seemed that Freeze had been expecting them. "I'm pleased to see you're here," he greeted them in his characteristically melancholy way.

Batman said nothing. Behind him, Wonder Woman's hand flew to the clasp that held her lasso.

"Why so cold?" Freeze deadpanned, and upon seeing that he was not going to get a response from Batman, he turned his attention to his subordinates, who were working on the aircraft housed in the building.

Wonder Woman, impatient with whatever game Batman was playing, stepped forward. "Who are you working for, Freeze? Why kill so many for no discernable reason?"

"By the time you finish questioning me about my motives, Wonder Woman, I will have already carried out my crime," was Freeze's simple answer.

Batman finally decided to speak. "What crime." He said each word slowly, deliberately, in an ominous rumble. It was clear from his tone that he meant business; some of Freeze's milling assistants suddenly stopped in their tracks. Even Wonder Woman felt inclined to shiver upon hearing him, though this was caused more by anticipation than by fear.

Freeze was willing to oblige them. "There is a plane flying over Gotham with a canister containing an airborne form of the disease that until recently was injected into individual people. There is enough chemical in there enough to infect every single person in this city. Within half an hour, every man, woman, and child in Gotham will be dead."

Diana jerked in surprise, and she saw Batman's face go white. Freeze, however, looked as bored as ever, and lifted his hand to greet them with a blast of ice.

"I have a better chance of stopping whatever's on that plane," she told Bruce as they leapt out of the way of the blast.

"There's an aircraft motion sensor on the Batwing," he said. She nodded and unfastened her lasso, hastily thrusting it in his hands before they darted in opposite directions when another one of Freeze's blasts streaked towards them.

--

Bruce had programmed the Batwing to recognize her voice, Diana noticed with faint astonishment. Thankfully, she wasn't at leisure to ponder over this uncharacteristic display of trust, for it only took her a few minutes with the console's aid to spot a plane with the airfield's emblem taking an uncharted path through the skies. She grabbed a gas mask from the supplies and hung it around her neck as a precaution.

Wishing that she still had kept her lasso instead of leaving it to be used on Freeze – Batman was a walking, talking lasso of truth as it was – she retracted the Batwing's cockpit and flew out of it, heading straight for the plane in question. Finding a hatch that served the purpose, she was inside.

The interior of the plane was sparse, almost like a cargo plane; there was no compartment that separated the cockpit from the remainder, and so a view of the skies ahead was clearly evident from anywhere inside. Seats were few. Instead, there were about a dozen men in black jumpsuits with white lenses in their masks; most of them gathered around a six-foot tall canister in the back of the plane. Understandably, they were stunned when Wonder Woman appeared among them as if out of thin air.

"Will you surrender now, or shall I fight you?" she demanded. A fist flew to her face in response; she grabbed it before it could make contact with her jaw and easily flipped the owner. Twelve highly trained martial arts assassins to one Amazon – Diana thought that this could have been enjoyable were it not such a sinister situation.

She was soon caught amid a fury of kicks and fists. It was as if her dozen opponents could reach one another's minds, so coordinated were their movements. Without her lasso, Wonder Woman relied solely on her combat abilities – this certainly didn't put her at a disadvantage, but being clever with the lasso was much easier, and this fight required as much strategy as it did stamina. So far, only one of the twelve men had fallen in defeat.

Wonder Woman's roundhouse kick was blocked when a pair of sturdy hands caught her leg and thrust her to the ground; two of the assassins struggled to pin her arms down, but she kneed one in the stomach and wrapped one of her legs around the other and squeezed around his thorax in an attempt to suffocate him just enough to weaken him. Their grips faltered – she was able to flip them over and was about to knock their heads together when she saw through the windshield a the blinking lights of a Boeing 747 heading towards them at full speed.

No one was steering the plane she was on. Casting her two victims aside, she headed for the pilot's seat when she was pushed down again, this time held in place by six assassins. She arched her head back and saw that the Boeing was heading nearer; even if she got to the controls now, it wouldn't leave her enough time to dodge it – she would have to change their course manually.

With a determined grunt, she pushed herself against one of her captors and then was in the air, half a dozen assassins not loosening their grip on her. It was their loss. Wonder Woman hurtled through the roof of the plane, exploding out through the other side in a flurry of metal shards, industrial plastic bits, and warm blood, much of it her own. She shook her head to clear it from the impact and then headed straight for the nearest of the plane's wings; this she grabbed onto firmly, and with a war cry that would have sent chills through anyone who would have heard it, swung the plane out of the way of the Boeing.

That crisis had been averted, but then she saw the canister fall out of the giant hole she had created through the plane. Its seal had been loosened, and she saw a misty blue gas creep out of it.

Time seemed to stand still. All Wonder Woman could hear was her own frantic heartbeat, adrenaline threatening to pour through her skin. She pulled the gas mask that hung around her neck over her head and wondered why everything was so slow – if her horror was so great that it slowed everything around her – or if somehow gravity had decided to change its course at that one moment –

"Hera, help me," she prayed breathlessly, and was again herself, freed from her state of suspended animation. The canister resumed falling at its proper speed, and Diana found hers again too. She shot towards the canister and wrapped her arms around it, then flew straight towards the heavens.

Her gas mask could only protect her to some extent – the microbe seemed to take its effect upon contact with the skin as well. She was already noticing herself getting colder, slower, more tired – had she and Bruce not inoculated themselves with the antidote before leaving, she would have been done for by now. "Hera," she pleaded again, hoping for enough strength to be able to take the canister out of the Earth's atmosphere.

Hera heeded Diana's plea. At once, a bright green light flashed through the night sky and for a moment it emblazoned the violet skies with a brilliant emerald. But when she saw the light spill around the container and suddenly isolate it from her grip, she knew that it wasn't the gods who had come to her aid, but a Green Lantern.

"It's hermetically sealed, Wonder Woman," said the voice of a still-unfamiliar Lantern.

"Thank you, Kyle" she replied, and although there were more important things to think about just then, Diana felt a passing twinge of nostalgia when she remembered her days with John in the Justice League. "Why are you in Gotham?" she then asked; she was thankful for his help, but it was highly unorthodox to see any of the Justice League in Batman's city.

"Superman sent me. Batman told him a couple of minutes ago that you might need help with transporting a volatile container."

"He was right," she nodded, "Get that as far away from here as possible." And with that, she sped towards the Batwing. She had to get to Bruce as soon as possible. Knowing him, he hadn't called for backup for himself.

--

Diana arrived in the airfield just in time to see Freeze being carted off. After only a little searching, she found Batman in an adjacent hangar.

He looked stunned at her appearance – forgetting himself, he took a step forward, but then recollected himself and only observed her blankly as she walked to him.

"What did you find out?" she asked through chattering teeth. The infection was interfering with her senses. Bruce took her hand and rubbed the back of it with an alcohol swab from his belt.

"Freeze was receiving shipments of inert fungi and activating them with his cryogenic capabilities," he said as he injected another dose of the antidote into her hand. She felt a sudden shot of warmth darting up her arm. "He's being paid well, but he doesn't know who he's working for."

"If Freeze is put away now, then whoever is behind this will be compelled to show themselves." The weight of her words was palpable. Both of them were thinking about the conversation they had had earlier that night – about _Talia_ –

"Yes, Alfred," Bruce said at once with his hand on his ear. "Not now—what? Fine." He pulled out a small device with a screen and flicked it on. Diana looked at him for an explanation, and he obliged. "Alfred says there's urgent news."

The small screen flickered into life and displayed a newscaster with tears streaming down his face as he reported. "Tokyo destroyed," read the screen.

Diana gasped, and wordlessly, Bruce changed the channel. There too – "All deceased in Moscow."

Sao Paulo.

Los Angeles.

Mumbai.

One channel featured a blank screen with the succinct headline: "Whole populations of sixteen major world cities dead."

Every news channel reported the same story, but Diana was still unable to believe it. Gingerly, she clicked on her comm. link and murmured, "Shayera?"

"Diana!" Shayera rasped – it was evident from her voice that she had been crying – "It all happened within five minutes. We were too late, we—"

But Diana clicked off her comm. link and fell to her knees, her head hanging. Her face was trembling, her anger threatening to turn her features into a snarl, but when she realized instead that she was going to sob, she relinquished her careful self-control.

Tens of millions dead. They had saved Gotham, but sixteen other cities were – gone. Wiped into nonexistence. The helplessness, the pain, the despair – her heart was split open – her breath was snatched from her – her feelings of numbness was so replete that they arrested her –

And yet, she could clearly feel Bruce's hand on her shoulder. It was her anchor then, the only firm, solid thing she could sense in the suspended haze of grief that suffocated her. She lifted her arm and put her hand over his. His wrist stayed on her shoulder, but he intertwined his fingers with hers. She tightened her grip.

* * *


	15. Chapter 15

**XV**

Wonder Woman and Batman's arrival at the Metrotower sent a wave of whispers among the members of the Justice League despite the subdued mood. Many of the newer members had never before seen either of the heroes, and Firestorm swore that when they materialized they were hand-in-hand. Soon after their arrival, however, they were nowhere to be found.

This was because the original members of the League, with the exception of John, somehow found themselves gathered in the same conference room after many years. Diana and Bruce had rushed over because of their shared concern for Clark. Sure enough, when they had seen their friend upon reaching the Metrotower, they had let go of each other at once and reached out to support him on either side, even though he stood as straight as ever. None of them had said a word, as any act of consolation was impossible, but Diana and Bruce had exchanged worried looks at Clark's oddly blank face.

They were all distraught. The Flash kept wiping his eyes. Shayera's mace sparked repeatedly, as if she wanted to bludgeon away her feelings. Even J'onn managed to appear graver than usual; he could _hear_ the silent cries of despair, which meant that he was the only one who could feel the loss as deeply as did Clark. Diana sat by Clark's side while Bruce stood nearby. Preoccupying themselves with him was easier than thinking about what had just happened.

"What now?" Flash finally demanded.

They all looked up. "We find out who did this and make them pay," Shayera stated as if she had been waiting for someone to ask her. "Diana, Bruce, what do you have so far?"

Diana recounted what they had learned – deaths in cities where International Trade Summits had been held, a message of "_Maintenant le Renaissance_," Freeze in alliance with a mysterious party, her own interrogation in Cairo.

"And now _this_," Flash thought aloud, unwilling like the rest of them to put what had happened into words. "The cities targeted tonight – do they have some kind of connection, other than the fact that they each had millions of people?"

"We should look into that," said Shayera, "We'll get someone in the League to do it."

"Most likely, there is no connection," Bruce muttered, "Wally's right" – here, Flash looked surprised – "Whoever did this only wanted to hit as many people as they possibly could."

"Our mystery criminal has been so systematic about leaving 'clues' that we were distracted from even considering that they could act so capriciously," Diana added.

Superman, who had been deep in thought, finally looked up. "I hate to say this," he hesitated, "but it sounds like classic R'as Al Ghul – without his usual finesse."

Batman looked relieved that Clark was finally talking, but seemed annoyed at what he said. "It can't be R'as Al Ghul, Clark," Bruce growled, "R'as Al Ghul is dead. You should know. You were _there_."

"We can't be sure, Bruce," said Clark with a sad frown.

Bruce let a stern look directed to Clark explain his feelings on the subject. Clark clenched his jaw for a fraction of a second, but did not insist on exploring his theory any further.

Diana, meanwhile, witnessed this exchange with mounting astonishment. Why was Batman convinced that R'as was dead? What made him so sure that _he_ was willing to ignore him as a suspect? "At any rate," she interjected, "We should check R'as's known hideouts. His involvement may be unlikely, but none of us expected to lose millions of lives without any warning either."

They all flinched at hearing what had happened expressed in words, but agreed to the plan – Bruce didn't object, at least. All of them were anxious to take action in order to disarm their disquieting feelings of helplessness. They would crosscheck flight logs, go on salvage missions. While they brainstormed, Batman swept out of the room as if to signal his disdain with the whole conversation – probably to retreat into his cave and soothe his ego, Diana thought with a twinge of pity.

--

She didn't expect to find him in Shayera's office at the Metrotower. Upon seeing him, she shut the door behind her and crossed her arms. He didn't flinch, but she knew him well enough to know that he wanted to talk to her.

He watched her close the door, and then said, "I want to thank you for what you did for Gotham."

Diana didn't look away, but she dropped her arms to her sides and shook her head. "You don't have to thank me."

Bruce seemed to hesitate, but then he pulled his cowl back and rubbed his temples. She sat across from him and rested her interlocked fingers on her lap. "Everything – within a matter of minutes…you did what I couldn't have done," he continued.

"I only stopped one plane. _You_ can stop this from ever happening again." After a pause, she spoke again. "I'm going to Gotham tonight because I don't think that you questioned Freeze about the Society of Shadows."

When he said nothing, she felt a wave of disappointment; she had wanted to believe otherwise. Silently damning his stubbornness, she went on. "It's clear that you didn't ask him because you were afraid to find out if Talia was involved. But—" here she tried to shift to a kinder tone of voice, "—if anyone could recover from such a possibility, it's you."

Bruce, who had listened to all of this impassively, looked up. "That's what you think, is it, Diana?" he said finally, with such force that she blinked twice. "That must be how you justified leaving me behind."

Diana had expected an argument between them to occur soon, as earlier that night they had accidentally revealed that they cared about each other's feelings, but she hadn't expected it to be _this_. "What are you talking about?" she demanded coldly.

Bruce smirked and stood up. "You left me ten years ago when I needed you more than ever. 'I'll always be at the Watchtower,' you said. To lose Tim _and_ you in the same day—" He paused to laugh derisively, but its effect was lost as the sound struggled to leave his throat. "You want to know _why_ I love Talia – why I hold on to her almost desperately?" Here he locked his eyes with hers. "I love Talia because she helped me forget about _you_." He spat this last word and looked away, as if the sight of her repelled him.

Her hands clenched the arms of the chair as she listened to him, but at this last part, she gripped with so much force that the wood snapped in her fists. "_I _didn't leave you," she snarled, "_You're_ the one who abandoned me."

Bruce hadn't expected this. He nearly spun around in surprise.

"I had never seen you like that," she continued, her voice growing steelier, "I thought that if I forced myself into your life then – if I interfered too much – I would lose you for good. I had to struggle against every one of my instincts to give you your space. I waited for you. But you sent no sign – not even a word – for two years… Tell me what I was supposed to think."

He clenched his jaw as her words sank in. "You did _nothing_," he accused finally, "You didn't fight for me."

"I _always_ fought for you," she corrected, her eyes flashing. "I always forewent my dignity to accommodate your _rules_. I snubbed so much of what made me Diana in order to gain us a warm moment together. I despised myself sometimes, and yet I still can't help but—" her voice dropped to a whisper, "…love you."

He was quiet, but the look on his face said enough. Diana's hopes rose for a moment, but she stifled them at once. He was Talia's, she reminded herself sternly.

Her speech was followed by a lengthy silence, but it wasn't as tense as the other ones had been. At long last, Bruce spoke. "You're no walk in the park, either," he told her with a short laugh. But he gave her a faint smile, and it was as earnest as she had ever seen him give. It reminded her of the feeling of his hand on her shoulder, his hand in her hand – and then she recalled memories that she hadn't thought of in years: his arms around her, his lips shyly seeking hers –

"Where are they holding Freeze?" she asked at once. Her words suddenly lifted the heavy curtain of recollections that their conversation had conjured around them. Bruce pulled his cowl over his face and was inscrutable again – somehow, she preferred him this way.

"I'll find out," he replied, and he brought his hand to his ear. "Alfred," he said. There was no response, so he tried again. "Alfred?"

Diana raised her eyebrows as she watched him try several more times. He then switched frequencies. "Talia?"

Silence. She watched Bruce's eyes narrow. He tried again.

"I'm going with you," Diana informed him as understanding dawned on her.

"No," he said at once.

"Yes," she insisted. "What I _want_ to do is take the whole of the Justice League with me, but I'll put my feelings aside for your sake. It's either them or me. You decide."

His features tightened, but he relented. "Fine. Let's go."

* * *

**AN**: 1) I changed the number of cities killed off from sixteen to six in the last chapter – Bjork was on in the background while I wrote that part, so I may have gotten a little overexcited. 2) The last time Diana and Bruce talked ten years ago is described in chapter five of this story if you want to refresh your memory. 3) "That's how you must have justified leaving me behind" is probably the lamest thing Batman has ever said, so if _you_ can make that whole exchange better, out with it.


	16. Chapter 16

**XVI**

Batman's arm was around Wonder Woman as she flew him through the Gotham skies at breakneck speed. Neither of them failed to notice the empty streets below them. When they approached Wayne Mansion, they saw that even it was wrapped in a particularly unsettling sense of gloaming. Wonder Woman stole a quick look at Batman upon seeing this, but he was busy with his handheld receiver as he scanned through the security cameras mounted throughout the Cave. They all displayed only static.

"Where to?" she asked.

"We'll take the back entrance," he said. Understanding, she shot past the promontory on which the Mansion rested and plunged into the seas below it. When they were underwater, Batman pointed to a lever in the cliff, which she neared. He pulled it, and an opening appeared in the wall of rock before them. They raced through the current and after a few moments finally emerged for air.

They were in the periphery of the Cave now, with the mainframe still at a considerable distance. Wonder Woman fought the heady inclination to erupt out of the water and charge onto the main floor. If Alfred's safety weren't a concern at the moment, she would have done so.

"There's only one person other than Alfred who knows the Cave's security measures inside out," Batman said in a low voice.

A leather armchair perched in front of the mainframe suddenly came to Diana's mind. "Talia."

They had no other choice but to enter directly, as whoever was in the Cave would be alerted if Batman were to use any of his technological implements. "Let's go," he told her, and he put his arm around her again. When he was pressed against her like this, she could sense even through the Kevlar how quickly his heart was beating. Something like pity stung her, but she ignored it. This was no time for weakness.

They flew along the winding ravine inside of the Cave; the only sound that could be heard was the soft swish they made as they advanced. As they approached the main floor, it was pitch dark, obscuring everything below them. Wonder Woman's eyes narrowed in suspicion as she descended, but next to her, Batman tensed up for a fraction of a second, as if he _had_ sensed someone. When their feet touched the ground, he released his grip of her at once and took two steps forward.

"_You_," he growled.

At the sound of his voice, the Cave was suddenly flooded with light, and in front of them, sitting on Batman's chair, was Ra's al Ghul. Next to him stood Talia.

Both Batman and Wonder Woman's mouths fell in unison, but Ra's betrayed no such astonishment upon seeing them. "Ah, Detective," hailed Ra's. His mouth curled into a smirk as he appraised Batman. "It took you longer to find me than I had expected."

Wonder Woman was ready to tear towards them but Batman held his arm out at once to stop her. He spoke directly to Ra's, decidedly avoiding Talia's presence. "What have you done?" he demanded of Ra's – but it was clear that the question was addressed to both him and his daughter.

Ra's found this question amusing. "You have yet to decipher my motives? Even after I left such patent hints for you to piece together? _This_ I cannot believe."

Batman glowered. "I know all about your _motives_, Ra's. You want a renaissance – a rebirth of the world – by killing everyone on the planet, you thought you'd start from scratch with your new world order."

Ra's listened to this with a reticent smile, and as Batman finished speaking, his smile grew broader. "A _rebirth_, yes," he allowed, "But not of the world. Age may have dulled your wits, Detective, but it has only sharpened mine – do you honestly think that I would undertake something as _crass_ as haphazard mass murder?"

"Then what happened tonight?" Batman demanded, his voice raising.

"Tonight" – Ra's considered for a moment – "was collateral for something much grander. My goal is rebirth, Batman, this much is true. But it is not of the world, but of _myself_."

Diana had been keenly studying Talia throughout this conversation; Talia listlessly kept her eyes on the ground as her father spoke. Diana could only attribute such behavior to brainwash – or shame. But she abruptly broke her observation of Talia at Ra's's pronouncement and involuntarily took a step closer to him – this time, Batman didn't stop her himself, but his steadfastness prevented her from going any further.

A statue appeared in Ra's's hand. "Do you know who this is, Detective?" he inquired as he proffered it to them.

Wonder Woman recognized the statue at once: "Osiris."

"Indeed, your highness," Ra's acknowledged. "Osiris, as his Greek biographers immortalized him, and Ausir, as he was originally named. Surely you know his story?"

Batman spoke. "Osiris, ancient Egyptian god of the Afterlife. He ruled Egypt with his wife, Isis. His brother Set murdered him and sealed him in a coffin, which he got rid of, but Isis happened to find it. Set dismembered Osiris' body this time and threw all of the pieces into the Nile. Isis recovered them, and taking pity on her, the Egyptian gods brought Osiris back to life as the god of the underworld." Diana could see that he was becoming more disgusted as he spoke, as he still hadn't unraveled Ra's's plan.

"Osiris was traditionally associated with rebirth, but only of non-human life," she challenged Ra's. "He can't do for you what he does for plants. Even if you bury yourself according to his customs, you'll be resurrected as an immortal in the _underworld_, not in this one."

There was a glint in Ra's's eye. "Do you see that, Detective?" he said to Batman, "The princess has shown a greater quickness of mind than you have. But she has still not discovered my designs. However, as you are family now" – here, Talia's head hung lower – "let me enlighten you.

"The part of the tale that both you and Wonder Woman fail to recall is what happened right before Osiris was made a god. When Set murdered Osiris, he cut the body into seven pieces and threw them into the Nile. Isis searched for days before she could find them, and in order that Set never find Osiris' body again, she buried the pieces in seven different locations of the globe."

Batman and Wonder Woman exchanged glances. Six cities tonight had been destroyed, and the seventh – Gotham.

"Osiris' soul was resurrected as a god and sent to rule in the afterlife. But his body remains dismembered. For centuries, his followers attempted to reassemble his physical form in order to be rewarded with eternal life, but mobility then was hardly what it is today, and with the passage of time, their goals were forgotten. I came to know of this several centuries ago, and I too spent years attempting to locate Osiris' remains. I was successful, and the next step was to prove my worth to Osiris himself, to convince him that I deserved to live forever.

"This part of the process was more difficult than I had expected. Mummification of Osiris' remains had been attempted by Isis once, but to no avail. And then I realized something – I could demonstrate my devotion to Osiris by offering a sacrifice at each site of his buried remains. By doing so, I would please him by providing him with more subjects in the underworld. And if I were to provide him with _millions_ of subjects – well, you can see how that would put me at an advantage."

"You've committed unthinkable atrocities," Wonder Woman sneered, "and Osiris was known for being just. How can you possibly think that he will reward you for what you've done?"

"Because our ultimate goals are so closely aligned," Ra's answered easily. "Osiris is also the god of the earth's fertility; he brings verdancy to the land but then removes it every year, in order to remind us of the barbarity committed against him by Set. If by granting me immortality his aims can be advanced and the world restored to its natural order, then why would he deny such an opportunity? Imagine a greener world with less industrial corruption – and less people, of course – all under my watchful eye. Is it not just to hold humanity accountable for the atrocities _it_ has committed against the peaceful course of nature?"

"You haven't succeeded yet," Batman reminded him, "We didn't let you destroy Gotham."

"Yes," Ra's conceded, "You certainly did not let me destroy Gotham. But destruction of a city is not what will please Osiris. Osiris desires a sacrifice that will provide him with a worthy subject in the afterlife. And who in Gotham is more worthy than you, Detective?"

Diana stole a glance at Talia, who was oddly still.

"Of course this will interfere with the felicity of my daughter, but she has never erred in her loyalty to me."

Bruce then finally acknowledged the one person whose presence in the room pained him the most. "Talia, where's Alfred?" he asked without removing his eyes from Ra's.

Talia said nothing.

"Where's Alfred, Talia?" he demanded again, the urgency in his voice evident.

"He is safe upstairs, beloved," she complied meekly; her voice choked on the last word.

So Alfred was out of harm's way. Wonder Woman decided that she had exhibited more than enough patience. "That's enough talk," she declared. Before anyone could react, the statue of Osiris was in her hands and she swung it at Ra's head. Ra's dodged and responded with an uppercut to her jaw with such force that she nearly saw stars. Two batarangs whizzed passed her ear towards Ra's. It was an inauspicious beginning, but the fight for the fate of the world had commenced, and Diana was ready to protect Bruce at all costs.

* * *


	17. Chapter 17

**XVII**

After Ra's attacked Wonder Woman, Talia suddenly came to life. She followed her father's attack with one of her own. Diana was still recovering from Ra's's blow when Talia came flying at her, but she managed to block her and throw her aside. She wanted to take out Ra's, who was set on killing Batman.

It was clear that Bruce had no affection for his future father-in-law. The mouth that always managed a small but honest smile for Talia was now curled in blood-curdling disdain. He and Ra's were circling each other, neither willing to make the first move in vain.

Wonder Woman, on the other hand, favored the direct approach. She flew towards Ra's, ready to strike, when something – someone – landed on top of her. It was Talia. Talia grabbed a fistful of Wonder Woman's hair and forced her to crane her neck – she managed to see Ra's give his daughter an approving look before she spun in the air and flung Talia to the ground.

"I _could_ destroy you," Diana warned her coldly. But she wouldn't, of course.

"You've already done enough," said Talia, and before Diana could puzzle over what this meant, Talia leapt at her again. They began to fight – years of using the Lazarus Pits had enhanced Talia's abilities – and Diana soon realized that Talia could do other things well besides just simper at Bruce. Still, she was much stronger than Talia. But Talia had more to prove than any of them.

Then, from the corner of her eye, Wonder Woman noticed that the statue of Osiris had suddenly risen from the ground of the Cave and was now hovering in mid-air, bathed in a virescent light. In alarm, she noticed Batman kneeling nearby while attempting to recover from Ra's's latest blow – the more Ra's injured him, the closer Osiris was to being resurrected. And the higher the Osiris idol rose, the more of its glowing energy Ra's could summon to attack Bruce.

"Don't get hurt," she warned him while searching for a way to distract Ra's, as she had flung Talia out of the way for the time being.

Bruce only grunted and rose again, but his eyes quickly widened in horror. "Diana!"

But before he had finished saying her name, Diana gasped in shock, and then pain. There was a spear as thick as her fist – an old souvenir she recognized from one of their Justice League missions – lodged firmly in her axilla. Bruce, pale with concern, darted towards her to help.

"Don't worry about me!" she cried furiously as she snapped the shaft and left the tip under her arm

"Habit," he grumbled, then rolled out of the way when Ra's fired a shock of energy at him.

Meanwhile, Talia crossed her arms with a smirk. Her one visible eye coolly inspected Diana, whose left arm was bent outwards at an awkward angle. "I believe you underestimated me," Talia leveled, "It's not your fault. Most people do."

"I did," Diana admitted. "But most people also believe that you've reformed. I didn't."

Talia bared her teeth. "I'll attribute that to jealousy," she conceded. "My Beloved mentioned that he had a past with you. But _I_ am his future."

"What future?" Diana demanded. "Your father wants to kill him."

Talia hesitated, and Diana realized that Talia didn't expect her father to win; she expected her Beloved to prevail once again, and things would go back to the way they were. Diana had her doubts, for slowly but surely, the statue of Osiris continued to rise.

But Talia didn't have to respond to Wonder Woman, for just then, her father ordered, "Talia, finish him!"

Again, Batman had been driven almost right next to them. Talia could have easily grabbed the sword lying nearby and thrust it through the plates in his armor. But she stood there, transfixed, and by that time he had disappeared again. As soon as he was gone, Talia turned to Wonder Woman with fresh vengeance, but Wonder Woman had seen all that she needed to see. Talia wouldn't hurt Bruce – couldn't hurt Bruce. Her father's appearance had been as much of a surprise to her as it had been for them. Thus, when a batarang shot towards Talia, Diana blocked it and looked straight at Bruce. His eyes were shielded by his cowl, but she knew that he understood.

Through gritted teeth, Diana attempted to reason with Talia as they fought hand-to-hand. "He's not going to make it this time. If you give me just a minute, _I_ can help him finish off Ra's."

This was the wrong thing to say. "That is my _father_," Talia seethed, and grabbed hold of the arrowhead implanted in Diana's side and twisted it. Diana fell to the ground in a momentary wave of agony. Of course, Talia had no qualms about harming _her_.

So they fought on. Both Wonder Woman and Batman were quickly weakening, and statue of Osiris rose higher and higher. Wonder Woman, tired of the deadlock and getting more anxious by the moment, suddenly saw something at Bruce's workstation. She readily received Talia's next blow and pretended to crumple to the ground. Swinging her hair in front of her face to hide it, she slid her hand up to her ear and clicked on her comm. link.

"Bruce," she whispered, praying that his comm. link was on, " …Ra's toxin."

She heard a sort of strangled sound and then, "Distract him."

"Had enough, _Wonder_ Woman?" Talia gloated behind her.

"Yes," answered Diana, and Talia tilted her head in confusion. Diana rose slowly. "Ra's." Her voice almost boomed across the Cave. "Spare Bruce. Take my life instead."

Had Diana not been an Amazon, Ra's would have paid her request no mind. But as she was endowed with superhuman abilities, she warranted his interest. "I fail to see how that would benefit me in the current situation, Your Highness," he indulged her, stopping his barrage of attacks on the fallen Batman long enough to listen.

"Do you not?" she demanded regally, although her heart pounded wildly as she searched for a compelling argument; it had been too easy to capture his attention. "Did not Iris spend years searching for Osiris's remains? Did she not resurrect his body and use it to help her bear a child that would grow to avenge him?" She was inspired now:

"Did she not spend her entire life in his love and devotion, even after his death? Osiris knows the power of love, Ra's. He knows that love can fuse souls together."

Behind her, she heard Talia's breath quicken. And Ra's was eyeing her intently, taken in by every word she said. "You're saying that offering you to Osiris would be tantamount to offering the Detective?"

Diana was steady. "I love him."

Ra's was deep in thought. And then he threw his head back and laughed. "It certainly is a brilliant idea," he pronounced, "and I believe that it just might work. In fact, I'm surprised that Talia didn't offer herself for the cause."

"Father!" Talia protested, "I _will_ die for him, but I'd rather that you take _her!_"

"Well, I don't see the harm in killing both the Amazon _and_ the Detective, in that case," he finally decided, and then holding his hands towards the hovering statue of Osiris he summoned a shock of emerald green energy, which he hurled at Wonder Woman.

She saw Bruce nearby now, and with a cry for Hera she deflected the light with her gauntlets and sent it back towards Ra's. He stumbled in surprise, and suddenly Bruce appeared between them, carrying a syringe. "Why don't you tell Osiris yourself that you weren't successful in carrying out his plan," he growled.

"You wouldn't dare," Ra's challenged him, although he looked somewhat alarmed. "_You_ could never take another life."

"I'm afraid this time you've pushed me too far."

The room was perfectly still. All he had to do was press the needle into Ra's.

But he dropped the syringe, and Ra's watched it become still on the ground with some relief.

"I knew it," he declared triumphantly to hide his surprise as his confidence rebounded. Even Diana was shocked. Millions had died because of this man. If Bruce wouldn't finish him, then _she_ would. She could grab the syringe and – but even she stood there, unable to bring herself to –

"_No_."

In a haze, they all realized that Talia had spoken.

"No," she repeated, "This time, you've gone too far, father." Talia grabbed a drum of the toxin sitting on Batman's workstation and heaved it at Ra's. Neither Bruce nor Diana tried to stop her, for the sample was intravenous and so would have no effect. But when the liquid began to evaporate as soon as it hit the ground, Diana's jaw dropped, and she grabbed Bruce and Talia from opposite ends of the Cave at once and flew them out of there.

Behind them, they heard Ra's's last cry pierce the air.

--

Alfred was dressing Diana's wound with a stolid face. "Thank heavens you can heal quickly," was all he had said when he first saw the bloody mess jutting from her side.

He had been quite safe; Talia, out of concern for Bruce rather than for Alfred himself, had hidden him away as soon as she realized that her father had returned. Alfred didn't know what had transpired downstairs, but he could guess when he saw the sorry state that Bruce and Diana were in compared to Talia. And when he saw Bruce and Talia's faces, he felt a pang of sorrow for his surrogate son.

The two of them had disappeared, and Alfred was tending to Diana in the study. Diana considered the portrait of Thomas and Martha Wayne as he worked, and then finally broke the silence.

"It won't be easy for him to recover from what happened."

Alfred sighed and set down the bottle of iodine he had been using. "I'm afraid not," he agreed quietly.

Her brow furrowed. "It's too much for one person."

"Yes."

Both looked at the ground, wondering about Bruce.

Alfred spoke again. "Perhaps we should be thankful that he's had some moments of happiness with Madam Talia. After what he has endured over the years, he more than deserved some pleasure."

"He deserves all the happiness in the world," she replied.

He smiled sadly, and began to collect the supplies he had used to tend to Diana. She absently watched him work. When he had gathered everything on a tray, he stood straight and looked at her. "He _will_ recover. It will take him some time, but he will recover. _I_ will coax it out of him, Master Clark will coax it out of him, and eventually, he will be as he was always."

Diana nodded. She almost believed him.

But it wasn't only Talia who he had lost. She looked out of the window, which revealed a bright, dewy morning despite everything had happened.

She closed her eyes and rested her head against the back of the armchair she sat in. "All of those people, Alfred…"

Alfred could only squeeze her hand in condolence.

* * *

**  
**


	18. Chapter 18

**XVIII**

When Diana returned to Dhaka, she was thankful to find Zari's welcoming arms waiting for her. She went into them at once, eager to forget everything that had happened while he received her, for once he let go, she felt the crushing weight of what had happened in the last several weeks. She knew that she would talk about what had happened in the days to follow to her mother, to Clark and Shayera, to the press – but for now, all she wanted was to talk to someone removed from that world, someone whose opinion she respected, someone who knew her well and had her best interests at heart…

Zari listened to Diana's retelling of what happened in the Batcave – she omitted Talia's relationship to Batman, of course, and she also abridged her means of distracting Ra's for in it she declared her love for Bruce. When she finished recounting the fight itself, she confessed what troubled her the most:

"I couldn't bring myself to kill him."

Zari reached out to take her hand. "You're compassionate. You understand the value of a life."

"But I'm an _Amazon_," she insisted, pulling her hand away to clench it into a fist, "I shouldn't think twice before killing in battle. And if _anyone _deserved to die, it was Ra's al Ghul." She was ashamed. If it hadn't been for Talia's lucky accident, what would they have done with Ra's? Throw him off another cliff as had happened last time and hope that he perished?

Zari was lost in thought, and Diana meanwhile attempted to subdue her anger at herself by silently pleading to Hera.

Finally, he spoke. "You're not simply an Amazon warrior, Diana. You've been in _this_ world for years. You've spent your life striving to establish justice in a world that often can't handle its repercussions. You didn't even let the _Justice League_ stop you from understanding exactly what that means.

"And last night you were faced with the ultimate test, and you acted only in the way that _you_ could have. Your background and your identity may have created your circumstances, Diana, but only _you_ control your actions."

"I took a sabbatical from the Justice League to understand all of that," she said.

"Well, it's time to go back then, isn't it?"

For the first time in what felt like days, she smiled.

Now Zari sighed. "I have to ask – and this isn't the best time – but if you're radically changing things…"

"What's wrong?"

"It's, err…" He scratched the back of his head as Diana watched him fondly. "Did you ever have a relationship with Bruce Wayne?"

Diana looked at him agog. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, when you two were together at the British Embassy dinner, I just got this feeling of, you know, some chemistry there. And now that he's most likely single again, I assume that your feelings might be somewhat complicated."

She marveled at this. "There has always been something there," she admitted, "but I've never had a relationship with Bruce. It doesn't matter, Zari."

He drew his eyebrows together. "Diana, I know that what we have is very unconventional – I don't need all of your time, or your thoughts – actually, the only thing I've ever wanted all of from you is your romantic feelings. If I can't have that, then I can't be invested in this relationship."

She hung her head. "I'm sorry." But while she loved Zari, not being with him seemed inconsequential in the face of everything that had happened.

Zari looked crushed; she looked worse. He stood to take his leave, and they embraced slowly, sadly. "Are you going to see Bruce Wayne now?" he asked – not unkindly, only curiously.

"I don't know if I'll ever see him again," she answered honestly.

--

But the next day, Bruce himself came to see her.

"You weren't expecting me," he observed from the hallway that led into her apartment.

"No," she agreed.

"I didn't want more miscommunication," he said seriously, but remained where he was. Diana realized that this was the extent of the communication from his end, so she held out her hand and pulled him in, shutting the door behind him.

The feeling of his hand in hers suddenly made her shy. She let him go and looked at the ground. "Talia didn't know about her father, Bruce. You should have forgiven her."

"She left."

"…I'm sorry to hear that."

"So am I." He shrugged. This surprised Diana.

"You feel no sorrow?" she demanded angrily, although she wasn't quite sure why. His gaze remained level, one of his hands in his pocket, the other hanging at his side. She glared at him, at the gray around his temples, at the sharp angle of his jaw, at the ever-present look of cool disinterest in his eyes.

The only thing she could think to do was to kiss him.

Bruce responded with rivaling strength of feeling. He put his arms around her at once – as if he had anticipated this exact moment – and pulled her so close that Diana thought _his_ heart was beating in her chest. She ran her hands through his hair, against his cheeks, across his back –

– they stopped to look at each other, and Bruce's eyes were anything but disinterested. They kissed again, this time less wildly, and then broke apart. She made her way to the nearest bedroom and drew the blinds; he followed her and closed the door behind him.

--

Bruce ran his hand down the gray stripe in Diana's hair for the dozenth time. "I wouldn't have expected _you_ to age in ten years," he said absently.

Diana's head rested on his shoulder. "Immortality is more complicated than you thought."

"I never thought it wasn't complicated," he scoffed, remembering which one of their conversations she was referring to, but when he realized that she wasn't serious, he relaxed.

She put her hand on his chest and watched it rise and fall. "You loved Talia, Bruce—"

"Why do you want—"

"—I thought you would react differently to her leaving. You don't seem upset at all."

"Are you disappointed?" he challenged.

"I certainly wouldn't mind an explanation," she replied.

Bruce dropped his hand from her hair and onto her waist. "I _am_ upset that she's gone," he said, "But if we had stayed together, I would see Ra's in her place every time I looked at her."

"You certainly made it very clear to _me_ that Talia was completely independent from Ra's," countered Diana, her anger rising.

Bruce thought before he spoke, and then slid his hand from her waist to her stomach. "You _know_ the effect you have on me," he growled, the tenderness of his declaration incongruous with the roughness in his voice. "_Maybe_ I would react differently to the end of my relationship with Talia if you weren't here."

It was as romantic as she had ever heard him be; she kissed him softly. He gladly met her lips, and they were too occupied to converse for the next hour. When he finally pulled Diana into his arms again, she rested her ear against his chest and listened to his heartbeat.

The novelty of talking to Bruce about his feelings amazed her. She couldn't recall a time when they had ever done so – not even when they all thought that Clark had died, and not after what had happened to Tim – they had talked about _other_ people's feelings, and talked about her _own_ once or twice when she approached the subject herself, but this! And yet she was still struggling to understand him even after he held nothing back.

Bruce, on the other hand, seemed to think that he understood exactly how Diana felt. He hadn't asked her where Zari was, for one thing – he had appeared at her door with an air of entitlement that was astonishing upon reflection.

Although he had never said the exact words, she knew that he loved her – he made that much abundantly clear through his actions. But as she pressed her lips against a scar on his chest, she realized that all of these tender moments had been on the battlefield. He was willing to forego all of his rules of combat to ensure that Diana was safe. The only times they had ever kissed – other than in a restaurant at the height of the Thanagarian invasion – had been in the Watchtower after particularly heated battles. Anytime she had suggested that she spend time with Bruce instead of Batman, he had shrunk away. If he could risk his life for her during a fight but make no such commitment to her outside of it, then could she be happy?

"What happens when we leave this room?" she asked.

Bruce said nothing,

"Bruce?" She propped herself onto her elbows and looked at him. His eyes were closed.

"I can't give you what you want," he began.

"And what do you think I want?" she inquired.

"You want me to feel less pain," he said, "You want me to express how I feel to you because you think that it might help me."

She shook her head. "Is that what you think that I want?"

"…I'm not ready for a proper relationship so soon after Talia."

Maybe she understood him better than she thought even off of the battlefield. "So all we have is now," she said with a sad smile.

"I _do_ love you, Diana," he said firmly.

"I know you do," she sighed, calmer than she had expected. "And I know that I'm the one person you'll never let yourself have." She shifted so that her head rested on his shoulder again; in the little time she had left with him she wanted to memorize his scent, the rise and fall of his chest, how he caressed the small of her back. "If only Bruce and Diana could be like Batman and Wonder Woman." At this, he pulled his arms tighter around her.

Some hours later, when Bruce kissed her forehead with gentle finality, Diana felt her heart snap in two.


	19. Chapter 19

**XIX**

_GOTHAM -- The world was left in shock after Ra's Al Ghul's somewhat successful attempt to destroy it, and apparently, "bad boy" Bruce Wayne also found this a little too bad for his liking. Gotham socialites are still reeling from the news of his broken engagement with Talia Head (née Al Ghul). Talia has left the city for New Cuba after making a ten-figure donation to relief efforts following her father's attack on six major world cities._

_As for Brucie, he seems to be taking the news of Talia's departure well. Last night at a fundraiser for the surviving families of victims, he was seen enjoying the "company" of two buxom blonde women who were more than willing to ease his heartache by kissing away his pain – simultaneously._

Diana's mouth twitched. She hoped that neither of Bruce's new squeezes had super villains for fathers, or else she would have no choice but to interfere. With a smile, she folded the copy of the Daily Planet under her arm and made her way from the Watchtower commissary towards the viewing bay.

It had been three days since she had returned to the Justice League as a full-time member, and her timing couldn't have been more apt. There was much work to be done. Cities had to be reconstructed, relief efforts had to be implemented, and a fresh wave of criminals – emboldened by the daringness and scale of Ra's's scheme – had to be stopped.

And eight years away from the League had only increased her value as a teammate. Green Arrow and Flash clapped her back in appreciation every chance they got – and she hadn't stopped them from doing so yet – Shayera had wasted no time in making Wonder Woman's status as a leader known to all the members, and Clark…for the first time since Ra's's mass sacrifice, Clark smiled when he welcomed back his friend to the team.

He was already at the viewing bay when Diana arrived there. She went to stand next to him.

"It's beautiful," Clark said, the Earth reflecting in his eyes.

"It is," she agreed. Their fragile little planet was half-awash in the pale glow of the sun.

"I've been thinking," he began, "…maybe this _is_ a blessing in disguise. Your friend is right." He motioned to the newspaper, referring to an editorial of Zari's published in the issue. "People are putting aside their differences and working together. There could be brighter days ahead."

"Of course there will be," she said with conviction.

This seemed to put him at ease. "What about you, are you doing okay?" he asked.

Diana stifled a smile at her friend's concern for _everyone_. "I'm fine," she promised, "Don't you do anything other than _worry_?"

Clark feigned surprise. "Not really, no," he played along, but then he became serious. "With all due respect to you and Bruce – you may be two of the most intelligent people I've ever met, but when it comes to matters of the heart, you both fall short."

She paused. "I think Bruce and I have finally reached a resolution."

He considered her. "Well," he conceded – the steadiness of her heartbeat was convincing enough – "both of you _do_ seem like you're doing okay, so you must have done something right…_finally_," he couldn't help but add. Diana raised an eyebrow and Clark grinned in return; his spirits were lifted.

They stood together for some time longer, and when he left, she unfurled the newspaper and turned to Zari's editorial to read it yet again –

…_Throughout, Diana questioned what it meant to be at the crossroads of privilege and knowledge, of power and truth. This continuous struggle is precisely what makes her a superhero. It isn't her immortality or her Herculean strength or her ability to make men of all ages cry because of the way she fills out her armor. Diana is a superhero – is truly a Wonder Woman – because she demonstrates unimaginable fortitude in the face of adversity despite the limitations of her fundamental humanness._

_Now more than ever we will need a new wave of such superheroes. Our villains are not criminals and aliens, however, but are our longstanding prejudices. Let us put aside our differences in the coming days as we face calamities on an unprecedented scale. Let us rise to the challenge and understand that we all stem from a common humanity. It will be difficult, and will at times even seem hopeless. But being with Diana has taught me that it is not impossible._

Thinking about Zari stung more than she cared to admit, but the prayer she offered for his happiness was sincere; the support and affection he had showered her with in their year together was enough to carry her for a long time. Her reverie was interrupted by Shayera's sharp voice. "Hey," she demanded as she stormed in, "Do you wanna wail on some bad guys with me?"

"When _don't_ I?" Diana challenged with a conspiratorial smile.

Shayera beamed for a second, but then grew serious. "Unconnected imitation killings in three cities. Apparently there are Ra's sympathizers out there."

Diana's face grew dark. Here was one tragedy in the last few days that she couldn't come to terms with.

"We're looking into possible links to the Society of Shadows."

"The Society won't be the problem this time. Talia won't rest until she has reclaimed her father's name." Diana was unwaveringly certain about this.

"That might take a while," Shayera snorted as they headed for the hangar. "…You know," she added slyly, "if our bad guys are men, maybe they'll cry themselves into defeat because of the way you fill out your armor."

"Of course. The Herculean strength and immortality are just icing on the cake." They had learned long ago that embracing brief moments of lightheartedness was the only way they could brave up the courage to repeatedly face the horrors they encountered on the job. Fueled by adrenaline and an irrepressible sense of purpose, Diana and Shayera boarded a Javelin.

After making preflight adjustments, a voice from the Watchtower controls broadcast through the Javelin's console: "Wonder Woman, clear for takeoff."

It would be difficult, and even hopeless at times, but not impossible.

* * *

**AN: **Thank you to those of you who stuck with this story! It was nice to write, and I'm happy to get it out of my system.


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